


Coveted

by talismann



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Good Draco Malfoy, M/M, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Spy Draco Malfoy, Yule Ball (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 109,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25516600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talismann/pseuds/talismann
Summary: A seemingly reasonable end to an argument with Malfoy ends up with Harry asking him to the Yule Ball. Draco, refusing to back down to Saint Potter, results in him agreeing.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 144
Kudos: 722





	1. Harry fucks up (again)

# PART ONE - FOURTH YEAR

"Hermione - who are you going to the ball with?" said Ron. Harry and Hermione surreptitiously shared a look behind Ron as he strode out the Great Hall between them, his gaze kept forward with a forced nonchalance that had Harry rolling his eyes behind his back and Hermione smirking in return. 

She looked back at Ron with a cleverly conjured frown, "I'm not telling you, you'll just make fun of me." Ron huffed and turned around to say something else before his gaze wavered and a disgusted scowl found his face.

"You're joking, Weasley?" said Draco Malfoy behind them, "You're not telling me someone's asked _that_ to the ball, are you?" He was sauntering up to the three of them in a dramatic billow of his Slytherin robes and a shit-eating grin on his face. Hermione opened her mouth to reply before Harry stepped in front of her with a scathing look.

"He's not _telling_ you anything, Malfoy." He said with a glare, "Now shove off before I feel the need to summon Professor Moody over." 

"Oh, what's this?" Malfoy said with a smirk, "Potter's defending his girlfriend! I always though the Weasel would go for her, to be quite honest - although who says he hasn't. Always knew all three of you were-"

Harry whipped out his wand and pointed it angrily at the blonde, "Shut up, Malfoy" He hissed, and for some reason felt the need to add, "And it's not like that." He felt Hermione's hand on his arm behind him and she muttered to him in a low voice, "Harry, don't bother." 

But Malfoy continued with a new sort of interest and barely spared a glance at Ron or Hermione, "Oh _really_ , Potter? Well that means you've got a date to the Ball. The champion must be drowning in requests to sweep them as their date." He prompted, making a sweeping motion with his arms. Harry readjusted his grip on his wand, his hands unexplainably sweaty. He knew he had asked Parvati not long before, but he still couldn't get used to the idea of actually taking her, and at this point was seriously considering feigning sickness on the night of the Ball, or worse, just taking Ron. Harry glanced at the boy next to him, his face red and looking at Malfoy like he was the very scum at the bottom of his cauldron. There was nothing wrong with taking Ron to the Ball, but Harry found the idea extremely off-putting every time he remembered Ron's dreadful dress robes, so he never voiced the option to the other boy. That was Padma's problem now, fortunately for him. 

Malfoy, having sensed Harry's hesitation, laughed gleefully at him, "Oh. _Oh._ Isn't that something! It's the day of the Ball and our very coveted champion, Harry Potter, has yet to find a date!" He laughed a second time, causing anger to bloom in Harry's chest. Having the stress of finding out the clue to the next challenge, thinking about Sirius and staying constantly vigilant because he was apparently in danger (once again), Harry's anger had been at a considerable level consistently over the past few months. He was barely juggling his schoolwork, piled with solving the next challenge's clue, worrying about Sirius getting caught and overall trying not to die every 3 months for once in his years at Hogwarts. Not to mention the humiliation of getting rejected by Cho. Harry almost crumpled in to a ball on the spot. Why couldn't he just have something like a normal Quidditch season? Quidditch he knew. Not dragons and golden eggs.

Ron stepped forward with his hands clenched at his sides, his voice tight in constrained anger as he spoke, "Actually, _ferret_ , we'll have you know-" but Harry stopped him with a hand on his arm, 

"That's right, Malfoy." He started with a dangerous smile on his face, "It seems I have no choice but to ask the most undesirable, unwanted and desperate of the lot to the Ball. What can I say? Of course it's got to be a _Slytherin_." He said haughtily. Malfoy's shoulders drooped slightly at that, his gleeful mirth now slightly weaker than before. Harry took pleasure in seeing the other boy's confusion. He didn't necessarily know where he was going with this, but the small thrill at fighting with Malfoy gave him the possibility of a small victory in a long time. He decided in that moment that rendering the normally articulate Slytherin almost speechless was a step from winning the argument all together. All he needed to do was press it further. 

"Oh, _please_ potter." Malfoy drawled when he finally managed to regain his cocky composure, "Like any Slytherin would go with you! Whoever actually agrees to go with a plebian Gryffindor like you could be the biggest fool in the school!" His composure was once again slightly slipping - Harry could tell. 

"Well that's fitting!" Harry shot back, dropping his wand hand and holding his other hand out to Malfoy with a deadly glitter in his green eyes, "Because I was going to ask you to fill that spot!"

"Harry!" Ron erupted next to him. Malfoy's mouth hung agape as a retort failed to leave his mouth. 

"Wh - _Potter what in Merlin's_ -" He started, but was interrupted by Harry who was feeling very proud of himself, "Only the biggest fool would go with me to the Ball, so how about it, Malfoy-"

" _Harry!_ " Ron hissed again into his ear. 

"-Go to the ball with the coveted Triwizard Champion!"


	2. Very Sly(therin), Potter.

Draco stared blankly at the offered hand directed towards him.

By Harry fucking Potter. 

Granted, the hand looked suspiciously sweaty, but Draco didn't particularly care at that moment as Harry fucking Potter was offering him his hand. The Slytherin inwardly preened at the site, separating it from the circumstances momentarily and took satisfaction in the parallel it took to their first year. Of course, Draco had let go of the disastrous moment when Potter dug his own grave and rejected the very _not_ -sweaty hand of Draco's. The moment in which Potter committed social suicide and kept company with a Weasley instead, not to mention rejected what so many people would gladly kill for, which was Draco's _precious_ friendship and companionship.

No, Draco was above such trivialities. 

Regardless, Draco's first instinct to leave little old Potter hanging and reject his handshake was unfortunately conjoined with the reason to the proffered hand, which Draco had to analyse _very_ carefully. 

First off, Draco thought, what the fuck . Draco didn't show it, but he was completely and irrevocably confused as to what Potter was playing at. Asking him to the Yule Ball? He was still struggling to process it, and his immediate reaction would have been to reject the boy outright with generous disgust. Of course, he had sort of walked in to the situation all on his own, if he thought about the conversation over again. Potter had hinted at it and he took the bait- but why even ask in the first place?

If Draco were to (begrudgingly) look at it from the Gryffindor's point of view, he could kind of come to understand why Harry Potter asked _him_ to the Yule Ball. Knowing Potter, his Gryffindor idiocy probably made him take the stupidest, most brash option as a means to achieve something. At the moment, Draco had no idea what the boy was planning to do except possibly just try to gain control over the situation. Yes, that was it. Potter wanted control. He wanted to _win_. Whatever he was supposedly winning, Draco didn't care, but he wasn't going to let himself be blindsided by Potter. Granted, what Potter did was undeniably very manipulative, very _Slytherin_. But he, of course, never bothered to remember that Draco was the proclaimed Prince of Slytherin. He knew how to spot manipulation, had so since a young age. Potter tried to beat him at his own game. It was almost sad. Draco knew it was up to him to reclaim Potter's desired control. Potter wanted him to humiliate himself by rejecting his asking to the Ball, thus possibly implying he was scared of the boy, not to mention the obvious defeat it symbolised. Potter wanted to take him to the Ball? So be it.

Conjuring his most charming smile and throwing it at the Weasel and finally to Potter, Draco strode to the boy and took his hand. He shook it once, hiding his wince that it was quite as clammy as it looked, and said, "Very well. I will take you to the Ball, Potter." 

The other boy's eyes narrowed as he let go of Draco's hand, "I think you mean I'm taking you. I asked first, after all." Anger flared in Draco's chest but he suppressed it and just smiled politely at Potter. He considered arguing, but he really had better start getting ready. With a sigh he replied, "Of _course_. Do wear something appropriate, Potter. And get that hair cut. Not that it will help-" 

"Excuse me!" The Weasel said with an undignified squeak, "What in Godric Gryffind-" Weasley started to exclaim before Potter grabbed the boys arm and started to lead him away to the Gryffindor Tower. He cast a glance at Draco as he left. 

"See you then, Malfoy." He said with a wink and a mischievous grin. Draco rolled his eyes and made his way to the Dungeons. He needed to talk to Pansy.


	3. Murder me, Harry.

"See you then, Malfoy" As soon as Harry turned his back to Malfoy, a look of complete pain ran across his face. 

" _Oh no._ " He moaned once out of earshot.

" _Oh no!_ " Ron echoed him with great pain. The only thing keeping Ron going was Harry's hand around his arm dragging him to the Gryffindor Tower. Harry relied on muscle memory alone to get him back to his dorms, and only once they neared the portrait of the Fat Lady did he finally realise something was missing.

"Ron, where's Hermione?" He asked. Ron barely looked like he was listening as he stared far off with a glassy look on his face. His nose was scrunched up as if in the throes of a terrible event.

" _Ron!_ " Harry shook him a little. Ron jolted and looked at harry, horror seeping in to his features.

" _Harry…_ " He moaned, his face crumpling once again, "What have you done." His face collapsed into his arms and Harry clicked his tongue impatiently. The Fat Lady clicked her tongue as well, "You boys done? Or shall I wait here all night?" She nagged. Harry swore irritably, spat the password and led Ron inside the Common Room to a chair by the fire. There were was no one else there, Harry observed. Were they all really already getting ready?

Ron collapsed in to the chair, muttering incoherently and Harry collapsed next to him with a great sigh. They both stared at the fire in silence for a few tense minutes before Ron managed to find the ability to speak, "Hermione left while you were still…fighting." 

"Oh." Harry replied eloquently. They lapsed in to a more awkward silence than before.

"Wish she was here right now." Ron said. Harry chuckled, rubbing his forehead with a long sigh, fingers bumping on his scar. The chair wasn't meant for two people, so Ron and Harry were squashed together and the wooden arm was digging in to his side. It seemed he was destined for a life of pain. 

"Do you really not know who she's going with?" Ron asked earnestly. Harry silently nodded, shaking the whole chair as he did. He looked at the clock on the wall, seeing they had two hours until the Ball. Why were people already getting ready? 

Immediately, thoughts of the Ball sent his stomach down to his feet as a steadily rising anxiety churned in his chest. Harry was used to fucking up, but usually the end result was dying, or torture. He would have gladly taken death or torture at this moment. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"I've fucked up." He said bluntly. Ron snorted and Harry laughed nervously, the mood feeling a little lighter than before. 

"Damn right, Harry.' Ron said with a pained grin, "Bloody hell…always something with you, isn't it?" Harry smiled weakly and looked back at the fire, both of them looking suspiciously docile and strange if someone were to walk in on them sitting by the fire in silence. 

"Harry…I'm not sure if it's the shock of it, but I'm not even angry yet." Ron started uncertainly. "I just…I need to understand. We were leaving the Great Hall, Malfoy started his rounds with you and then…I don't even know what happened. What happened, Harry?" He asked weakly. Harry was honestly surprised Ron wasn't kicking him yet. He was lucky that was the case because Hermione wasn't here to help him if he did. 

"Well...Uh..." Harry started, "Shit," he said, "Ron, even ,em>I don't know. One minute I was arguing with the git, and then he asked me about the Ball, and then…He just made me so _angry_ , Ron! I had to do something, say something that would catch him off guard. It's not like I expected him to bloody _accept_ the bloody offer!" Ron winced and rested his forehead into his arm. 

"But, Harry," He said, " _Malfoy!_ " He sounded like he was finally absorbing it, to Harry's dismay and ill fated destiny. Ron's face was slowly blooming in to a shade of red that implied he was about to get really pissed off and Harry quickly searched for the best way to leave the chair before being attacked by the ginger. Damn it, he should have picked a different chair. Harry swore at himself internally, his pulse quickening as Ron continued, "Harry…Oh Merlin, Harry you really didn't." 

"I don't like it either, Ron" Harry said, trying to quell the boy's anger, but it seemed to only make him angrier. 

" _You don't like it either?_ " Ron exclaimed, "Harry you _asked Malfoy to the bloody Yule Ball!_ " He jumped up from his chair to tower over Harry, "And you already had a date!'

"I know that, Ron!" Harry replied defensively, all the while running through ways he would have to break it to Parvati. Oh, God. She's going to hate him. Harry cursed the day the killing curse hadn't worked. Stupid scar, stupid Ball, stupid _Malfoy_. 

"There you go! Stop thinking about Malfoy! Explain yourself!"

"Alright! Look. I asked him to the Ball to make himself look like a fool. I never even fathomed he would have agreed, Ron, I swear. I'm sorry about Parvati, I really am." And to hopefully calm Ron down a bit, he added, "And I'm sorry we aren't going to go with the twins together." 

Ron thankfully deflated a bit at that. _To small victories,_ Harry mused privately. 

"Bloody hell, Harry. Now you've got to go the Ball with…" He scrunched up his nose like there was a bad smell in the room, " _The ferret._ " Harry snorted and resigned himself to a very shit evening courtesy of himself and Draco Malfoy as an accomplice. Harry didn't particularly feel bad about not going with Parvati. Not that she wasn't pretty, or whatever, but Harry had no idea how to talk to her outside of classes and homework. What on earth would he have talked about while they were dancing?

_Oh Merlin. Dancing._

Harry considered throwing himself in to the fire very seriously at that moment. It genuinely had no downsides except agonizing pain. No Tournament, no Parvati, no dancing and most of all, no Malfoy! Harry sighed dreamily at the thought.

"-Harry!" Ron yelled, causing Harry to jump in his chair. 

"Huh?" He said lamely.

"I was _saying_ ," Ron said in a tone much like Hermione's, "Is there no way you can get out of taking the tosser as your date?"

"What? Ron, no way!"

"Why the bloody hell not? I thought you didn't want to take him!"

"I don't! But I can't let him have the satisfaction of knowing I was too scared to take him at all!"

Ron grunted in frustration and slapped his forehead with his palm. 

"Look, Ron." Harry said, "You need to understand that Malfoy is all about power, and right now we're on equal footing. If I back out, what does that look like?"

"It looks like you've really thought this over." Ron said, looking unamused but considerably more calm than before.

"What? No. It’s common sense if you look at it properly."

"Yeah, Harry, If you were a _Slytherin_."

Harry scoffed at that and decided to leave the issue for the time being, getting up from the chair and stretching deeply. "Well I'm in Gryffindor, luckily for you." He said, shooting Ron a sly grin. The other boy shoved him lightly, but said nothing in a silent agreement to let the matter lie.

"We should get changed now." Ron said, looking at the clock. They had one hour until Harry had to line up for the opening dance. "Merlin help us."

Harry nodded grimly, turning to the dorms. Ron followed him, grumbling about his hideous dress robes and wondering out loud as to why the hell Hermione took so long to get ready.

"Better be bloody worth the trouble." Harry heard him mutter, although he wasn't sure if Ron was talking about Hermione's situation or Harry's.


	4. If something happens, just say Potter did it.

Draco strode to the Dungeons with his usual Malfoy regality, all the while is heart was hammering in his chest. The weight of what he had just done was starting to painfully sink in.

_Bloody fucking Potter_. It was all his fault! Stupid Potter with his stupid Tournament, making them have this stupid Ball and being one of the stupid bloody champions. Why did he have to be so bloody flashy! Every fucking year! Deep down Draco knew Potter didn't want the attention, but the fact that he got it _anyway_ set the Slytherin off in all sorts. 

Stopping in front of the entrance to the Slytherin Common Rooms, he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders back. He spat the password and walked in. 

Luckily Pansy was still in the Common Room, chatting to Bulstrode and Blaise. Without stopping, Draco called out, "Parkinson, Zabini. With me." And he disappeared in to his dorm room. He knew they would follow.

He made his way to his bed and collapsed dramatically on to the top of it. Pansy and Blaise walked in and quickly made their way over when they saw Draco's genuinely worried face.

"Draco, what's wrong." Pansy said worriedly. Draco just groaned and threw his arm over his eyes.

"I've fucked up!" He whined. 

"Big boy words, Draco." Blaise cooed mockingly. Draco removed his arm off his face to glare at the boy and Blaise returned it with equal mirth. Draco sighed in defeat and looked at Pansy wearily, "Change of plans, Pans. I can't go to the ball with you." 

Pansy's face softened with relief. "Oh that's it? It's okay, I can go with Blaise or something. I assume someone else has asked you then?" She said with badly hidden curiosity. Draco groaned again and Blaise smacked him on the leg.

"Ow! Blaise, really, I don't know why I even keep you around."

"Oh _please_ , Draco. I was bound to you from the moment I found you crying about Potter in the bathrooms during first year." 

"I was not crying!" He said in a voice two octaves higher than his usual. At Blaise's raised eyebrow he huffed and stared at the ceiling as if begging it to fall down on top of him.

"Speaking of Potter." He said bitterly. 

"Is that why you're being moody, then?" Pansy asked incredulously. She gave Blaise a knowing look which he returned, "Should have known." 

"Oh yeah?" Draco asked cockily, lifting himself up to lean on his elbows, "Well now I've got a proper date that isn't our lovely Pansy."

It took a moment before Blaise's face lit up in astonishment. 

"No way." He muttered. 

"What?" Pansy asked, "I don't get it. We were talking about Potter weren't we…" She trailed off as it slowly dawned on her. She stared at Draco in shock. "Draco, you're joking." 

Draco only grunted and confirmed her fears.

"And you said yes?" Blaise asked, now heavily invested in the situation. Draco hummed and Blaise drew a sharp intake of breath.

"Merlin and Morgana! Why on earth would he ask _you_?" Pansy exclaimed. 

"I know!" Draco exclaimed back, "I mean, I sort of walked in to it - it's a long story- but, one moment I was teasing the prat about him not having a date to the bloody Ball and the next he asked _me_ to go with him with the most shit-eating grin on his face!"

"And you accepted…" Blaise trailed off inquiringly.

"Of course! I had to! If I hadn't he would've won! I did myself a favour if you really look at it-"

Blaise and Pansy shared another one of their knowing looks while Draco wasn't looking.

"-because now that I've accepted, he _has_ to take me to the ball. If he were to back out, he would be admitting defeat. And since he's a useless muggle-raised Gryffindor, he won't know how to uphold any amount of class at all, setting himself up for disaster as he humiliates himself right next the sharp contrast of dignified, pureblood _me!_ " Draco finished off with his arms outstretched as if expecting rounds of applause. All he got was Pansy standing with her mouth agape and Blaise barely holding back a snigger. 

"Er…Anyways. Look at the bloody time! I need to get dressed. Out, vile woman!" He violently shooed Pansy out, reluctantly letting Blaise stay as he needed to get ready as well. He went and dug through his trunk desperately. He only had an hour and a half to get ready for Merlin's sake! Because of Potter he now had to go about picking new dress robes that wouldn't match Pansy's, all the while trying to ignore the awful feeling in his chest.

" _Saint Potter_." He spat, and heard Blaise chuckle quietly to himself behind him.

"Shut up, Blaise! I'll hex you!"


	5. Harry struggles to keep his sanity for 30 minutes straight

Nearing the Great Hall with Ron in tow, Harry's self-resentment was at an all time high.

His robes felt uncomfortably stuffy despite their relative airiness and it didn't help that he kept occasionally wiping his sweaty hands on them. At least he didn't have to worry about the robes themselves like Ron did. For what probably the fifth time that evening, Harry glanced sidelong at Ron's frilly ensemble, with hems that hung a little too high off the boy's feet. He felt marginally better after that, before snapping his gaze forward again when Ron caught him staring and scowled.

Harry sung his praises to Molly Weasley for picking his sleek black robes. Unlike many other wizards, Harry deigned not to go fully starkers underneath and decided to wear his uniform shirt and black slacks underneath. He almost thought it a mistake and the bloody robes almost suffocated him with it's stifling heat. Harry decided to just fuck it and unbutton the front, allowing air to mercifully cool the sweat clinging to his shirt at the back.

The buzz from the Great Hall grew more eminent as they approached, and Harry begun to observe the slow trickle of Yule decorations leading to the hall. Small charmed snowflakes began to fall elegantly around them as they neared, and Harry saw the champion lining up at the entrance. 

"Potter! Bloody finally you showed up!" Malfoy called out impatiently from the back of the line, and Harry winced. Ron quickly made his way to Padma inside with a muttered wish of luck, and Malfoy sneered at him as he passed. 

The Slytherin was wearing form fitting white robes with dark green satin linings on the hems. It looked as if he had been standing there a while, and the other champions and their dates were looking at him rather suspiciously for loitering outside the Hall like that. Harry only nodded at him and scurried to the line, trying his best to breathe properly. He caught Professor McGonagall's eye as she formed the line and he saw her mouth thin in to a small line when she saw Malfoy.

"Mr. Malfoy, you may wait inside. Champions and their dates only." She advised. 

"Oh, no Professor, I'm with Potter." He said sweetly sidling up to him. Harry stiffened because he really did not want Malfoy anywhere near at the moment. 

"Er, yeah, Professor. He's with me." Harry said, trying to look as if it was the most normal thing in the world. McGonagall's eyes widened at the two of them for a moment before she spoke, 

"Oh…right. I didn't know you and Mr. Malfoy were… _close_ , Mr. Potter." She said glancing between them warily. Harry didn't blame her if she was checking for signs of Polyjuice on either of them in that moment. 

"Oh, I wouldn't say close, Professor," Malfoy said looping his arm through Harry's, "This is merely a political alliance. Inter-House Unity and the sort." Harry _desperately_ wanted to shake him off his arm, but his body wrought with muscle-freezing nerves won out.

McGonagall didn't stop staring at them for a few painful moments before stalking away, her eyes still wide. Harry sighed at the floor and turned to Malfoy. He immediately regretted doing so as he saw the boy staring at the top of his head with a sneer.

"I thought I told you to get a haircut, Potter." He said indignantly. 

"What? When did you say that?" Harry ran his fingers through his hair self-consciously.

"Oh for Merlin's sake. Follow me." He grabbed Harry's arm and led him not a long walk away to the school entrance, which had been kept open for the Ball. Malfoy took him to a nearby bush just outside and stood next to it.

"Bend over." He said.

" _Excuse me?_ " Harry retorted.

With an utter of disgust, Malfoy grabbed Harry by the nape of his neck and shoved him so he was leaning over the bush. 

_This is it!_ Harry thought miserably, _He's going to kill me and I basically helped him!_

Harry once again swore at himself, chastising every fake moment of happiness her ever felt. _Maybe Malfoy was doing him a bloody favour-_

He heard a muttered spell from Malfoy and braced for the worst, squeezing his eyes shut. After a moment of nothing happening, Harry opened them, feeling something falling from the top of his head. 

_Oh Merlin,_ He thought again, _I'm watching my own head bleed out!_

But Malfoy thrust Harry's head back up and he tottered precariously before finding balance.

" _What the hell did you-_ " But his head felt strangely lighter. Patting his hair, he was shocked to feel very little of it left on his head.

"Oh my god! My hair!" Flashbacks of Aunt Petunia giving him the worst haircut of his life as a child sent Harry in to an even more panicked state than usual. He instinctively went to grab his wand from his pockets, aiming to hex the living daylights out the Slytherin, before whirling around to see Malfoy already holding a conjured mirror out for him. 

"Relax, Potter. I just made you look _somewhat_ presentable enough to stand next to me." Malfoy said, looking bored as if he hadn't just pointed a wand at Harry's _bloody head_.

Harry gaped at himself in the mirror. He never cut his hair like that! The sides were shorter than the top of his head, where his unruly black hair was shorter than before but still messy and unkempt. It didn't look necessarily bad, but he wasn't going to tell Malfoy that.

"You practically took it all off!" Harry erupted. 

"Oh, please. And people think _I'm_ dramatic. At least now you don't look like a bloody banshee. Thank me later, Potty." Malfoy vanished the mirror and started to the entrance looking sickeningly pleased with himself, the warm glow of the candles inside looking extraterrestrial bouncing off his platinum blonde hair. Harry followed him, touching his head and whimpering quietly with the grief of his own lost locks.

Once inside again, Harry could tell from the tension in the air that the Ball was about to start. 

"And here we have them!" Harry heard as a sonorous of Dumbledore's voice roared, "Our Triwizard Tournament Champions!"

He glanced at the couples ahead and saw Fleur with someone from Hufflepuff stride on to the dance floor, all grace and flowing ivory robes. To Harry's amusement, he noticed that Fleur and Malfoy's robes looked jarringly similar, save for Fleur's shimmering translucent scarf wrapped around her and majority of her body, dancing behind her as she glided over the floor. Malfoy seemed to have noticed as well, judging by the slight downturn of the corners of his mouth, and Harry barely suppressed a grin.

Next introduced was Cedric, and Harry craned his neck to see who he was going with. He spotted an eerily familiar length of jet black hair being led to the floor. Cedric spun the girl around and, to Harry's horror, Cho Chang turned to face him. Feeling as if his heart had been stopped, Harry took a shuddering breath and gasped, " _Cedric?_ "

Malfoy turned to him, "What?" But another movement caught Harry's eyes just in front of him. Viktor Krum's date, a brown haired girl he hadn't recognised whirled around and Harry sputtered once again. Viktor followed his date and smiled once he saw Harry, "Ah, hello, Harry." And he turned to Malfoy and slight recognition crossed his face, "And..ah, yes. Dragon! I vemember you! Ve spoke at the velcoming veast…Malloy, is it?" He said proudly. Malfoy gave him a tight lipped smile, an infuriated glint in his eyes. It didn't occur to Harry to give him hell about it, however, because he was focused on Viktor's date, whom was none other than Hermione Granger.

"Harry?" Hermione gasped, looking between him and Malfoy in shock.

"Hermione?" Harry matched her tone, and at the same time they both exclaimed, 

"You're taking _him_ to the Ball!"

Malfoy scoffed and Harry tried to reassure Hermione poorly with nothing but his eyes. Hermione, however, whom although looked very pretty that night, seemed close to beating both him and Malfoy with her purse. The angry glint in her eyes as she stared at Malfoy was emboldened by the shimmery stuff she had put on her face. 

"What did you do to Harry?" She shouted at Malfoy.

"Oh, _nothing_ , Granger. He asked _me_." He said back cockily. She directed her glare at Harry and he unashamedly cowered a bit under it. Sodding Malfoy.

" _Harry Potter?_ " She demanded scathingly and Harry winced again. 

"Vat is the problem?" Viktor asked innocently.

"Nothing, Viktor." She said curtly without taking her glare off Harry. "As soon as this dance is over, Harry Potter, you will _explain!_ " Hermione hissed in a tone very much like Molly Weasley's. Harry nodded violently and - thank Merlin -Viktor whisked them away as they were announced. 

"Bollocks." Malfoy breathed out in relief, "I thought she might hit me again." Harry scowled at him and muttered a badly muffled, " _Shame she didn-_ " then got jabbed in the ribs by the Slytherin's pointy fucking elbows. He hissed and stomped on Malfoy's foot. 

"Ow! Shit!" Malfoy yelped, looking murderously at Harry before Dumbledore's voice rang out again to announce them.

"And last but not least, Our second Hogwarts Champion! Harry Potter!" Harry quickly adjusted his robes while Malfoy did what Harry could only describe as _preened_. He held out his hand to the boy, too nervous to notice Malfoy's wince as he clasped on to Harry's. General applause indicating they should head out ensued, and Harry took the lead, striding out and barely hearing the gasps that came from the crowd because of all the blood rushing in his ears. 

Malfoy leant in the tiniest inch, " _Smile_ , Potter." He said venomously through a dazzling smile. Harry certainly tried his best, and once they reached the empty spot on the floor, the delicate music started and all the couples started to dance. 

The two boys turned to each other, and Malfoy must have noticed Harry's complete uselessness in that moment, because as they bowed to each other just before the dance commenced, he muttered low and threateningly, " _Hand on my waist, Potter._ " Harry quickly jolted to action, Malfoy following suit by keeping their hands clasped on one side and holding Harry's shoulder on the other. Harry, scouring through his memory of McGonagall's dance lesson, just managed to keep up with Malfoy as they begun to dance. The git, of course, had to look like he was bloody _flying_ as they danced. The prat probably came out the _womb_ dancing. 

Looking around, however, he was met with a multitude of shocked, horrified and displeased faces. There were the odd few, though, that looked almost _pleased_ , as if Harry's misfortune was incredibly funny. He spotted Ron next to Padma staring at Hermione and blinking as if she were dancing with Voldemort himself. Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall sat at the Head Table watching them as well, and McGonagall seemed to be slyly passing a few Galleons to the very delighted Headmaster underneath the table. Harry wondered what that was about as he managed to spin Malfoy without tripping himself. 

"I'm surprised, Potter." He said as he came back from the spin, "You haven't fallen on your arse yet." He didn't even look like he had broken a sweat, save for a few strands of hair falling over his forehead from being gelled back. 

"You twirl like a girl, Malfoy." Harry answered. 

Malfoy only smirked and replied, "And you step like an oaf. For someone who plays Quidditch you're incredibly inflexible." They nearly veered in to Fleur and her date before Malfoy gripped Harry's shoulder like steel and steered them away. Harry considered thanking him, but after seeing Malfoy's sneer he just sent a him a glare and tried his best to focus on other things around the Hall. 

"Why are we doing this again?" Harry asked, mostly to himself. 

"Well, you did ask." 

"Merlin, Malfoy. But you said _yes_." Malfoy sighed like he was talking to a child, "Like I said earlier, Potter, it's all political. People do things like this at Ball's all the time." 

"Well I don't bloody seem to be getting anything out of it, so what's the point." Harry said angrily. He spun Malfoy again, just managing to refrain from letting go of the boy and hoping he spun all the way in to a ditch somewhere. 

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Potter. Why the bloody hell did you ask me, then?" Malfoy spat. Harry looked him the eyes and saw the same anger in them he always saw when Malfoy spoke to him. The sight only made Harry want to rise to the bait, anger coiling in his stomach. 

He matched Malfoy's heated stare and said in a tone that left no room for argument, "We'll talk about this later." because he knew he couldn't do anything in that moment without embarrassing himself as well as Malfoy. The Slytherin - thank Merlin - didn't say anything to provoke Harry after that, seeming to have come to the same conclusion as well. 

"Regardless of anything I conclude over the night, Potter, how you steer a broom with two left feet is beyond me." He finally settled on, although the words didn't seem to have their usual heat. 

I'd take Quidditch over this any day." Harry grumbled, thinking about sunny days on the Quidditch pitch and the fleeting glimmer of gold in the air. 

Malfoy hummed noncommittally at that, "For once, I think I agree with you." He said thoughtfully. 

And they continued to dance. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Word of god here ;) I realised that keeping with canon's going to be absolute ass, so i've decided to take full reign from here-on out. Yes, folks! Rev your fuckin engines cause im about to go sicko mode on canon. What's gonna happen next?? Is Snape secretly a woman?? Is Blaise's mother actually Peter Pettigrew?? Is Voldemort some sort of sick reptile furry??? Who knows!!! The wonders of fanfiction!! Anyways, i promise i'll update the tags as i go, so you won't be caught off guard or anything. (I'm not actually gonna write all that stuff or anything as weird in, although they are things to think about...)  
> Sorry i won't write essays like this all the time. Thanks again to people bothering to read this shit!


	6. Snape's living nightmare

"So, what's with you and Cedric?" 

Potter, of course, choked and started babbling as Draco thought he would. It almost made him want to laugh. The boy was like _glass_.

"Wha - I - What do you mean…I mean there's nothing wrong with Cedric. And me. There's nothing wrong with me and Cedric-"

Draco laughed, "Please, you've been looking his way this whole time. Not to mention your little proclamation of _love_ earlier. _Cedric!_ " He said, reenacting Potter's wide-eyed, open-mouthed face. The boy flushed, casting another glance at Cedric and his date, "I wasn't proclaiming my love, you git. I was looking at Cho Chang."

"Ravenclaw seeker?" Draco said peering at her.

"Yeah. Why did you assume I was looking at Cedric?" He said hotly. Draco stopped himself from smiling, liking where this conversation was heading.

"Well, dear Potty, besides your little event earlier, you really don't notice you're looking at him all the time?" 

Potter scoffed, "I am not!"

"Cut the shit, Potter. Its obvious to everyone, not just me. You've been glancing at him during meal times ever since the his name came out the Goblet. It's as if you'd never even seen him before. Not that I blame you, though. For a Hufflepuff, he's quite fit."

"He's my competitor!" Potter exclaimed, "I have to keep tabs on him…and stuff." He trailed off, looking at their feet as they danced around Viktor and Granger. He snapped his eyes to Draco, "Why were you looking at me then?" He challenged.

It was Draco's turn to scoff, "I am most certainly not looking at you. Anybody with a pair of eyes can see it plain as day." And to change the subject quickly he said, "Why Cho Chang, anyways." Trying to come off as nonchalant. 

Potter eyed him suspiciously, "None of you business, ferret." 

Draco gritted his teeth and ran through basic arithmancy formulas in his head. "You've got your hand on my _waist_ , Potter, for at least three more minutes. I'm just trying to get through it alive - no thanks to you - without dying of boredom. Forgive me if I'm actually making the effort." He hissed. Potter's cheeks coloured but he considered Draco for a moment before sighing.

"Alright. Sorry." And after a few moments, "I had asked Cho to the Ball before…well you, I suppose."

Draco looked at the girl. She was wearing a plain dark blue dress with silver embroidered animals - no, birds - running across the fabric. She didn't look bad, but it wasn't anything particularly grand, either. It was nice, if she was going for a house costume contest look. She did look happy with Cedric, however, whom Draco took a bit more time pleasantly admiring. 

"So she rejected you?" 

Potter nodded, staring at the couple. Draco saw his an almost longing look in his eyes, but this time he was confused on who it was for. 

"So. You have a thing for Quidditch players, is it?" 

Potter sputtered once again that night, "I don't know what you…" but he couldn't seem to say more, looking at Draco confusedly. Draco threw a wink at him, a homage to the one Potter threw earlier, and heard the last few notes of the song. 

"Come on, Potter." He said, a mischievous smile spreading over his face, "Let's give them a show. Dip me." Potter looked as if he was about to refuse, but seeing Draco's smile, sighed in defeat and spun him once. Throwing his arms around the Gryffindor's neck, Draco felt gravity shift as Potter dipped him backwards with a strong grip on his waist. 

Applause rang out for what felt like the longest song in existence, but Draco was too busy staring in to the emerald eyes of Harry Potter, who's firm grip on his waist only seemed to falter every time the boy panted an exhale of breath above him. They looked at each other for a few moments as the applause seemed to go on, the charmed ceiling making stars glitter around Potter's head like a halo. The boy was smiling, and Draco seemed to be smiling back. 

Suddenly, the applause died down and Draco heard faint murmuring around the room, coming back to himself. He cleared his throat at Potter, whom he didn't know how still had the strength to hold his weight for so long. The boy jolted in to himself as well, his smile disappearing and causing something in Draco's chest to twinge. Potter coughed and brought Draco up quickly, stepping away and bowing with a hand on his chest. Draco did the same, suddenly feeling very cold. He wanted to say something but didn't know what, still recovering from whatever the hell had just happened. Potter saved him the trouble however, "Uh, see you around." He coughed again. Draco only nodded and they looked at each other for another moment before turning away at opposite sides.

Seeing the rest of the Hall, Draco realised they were the only couple still on the floor. Face heating in embarrassment, he quickly made his way off, making sure not to look at Potter. He ignored the many stares from people around the room and made a show of getting a drink from one of the tables and sipping languorously like he did it all the time. More casual music started to the play, and the comfortable hum of chatter regained itself in the Hall. Draco sighed in relief, a tight feeling in his chest but a rush of adrenaline still lingering. His pulse was racing, he felt, as he pressed his fingers to his neck. 

_Stupid bloody Potter_ , he thought, but couldn't seem to think of anything else. He couldn't seem to think at all. Damn his racing heart. Damn him. Damn Potter. 

Draining his cup, he quickly glanced at Potter and saw him talking heatedly to the Weasel. Turning to find his friends, he collided with a mass of black robes and a grunt of irritation that could only belong to one person.

"Professor Snape." Draco acknowledged. Snape swatted his robes with disgust and looked down at Draco through his nose.

"Mr. Malfoy." Snape leered. Draco said nothing, knowing Snape would say what he needed to and leave regardless. "May you please explain why you and Mr. Potter are dancing together at the Yule Ball." He didn't raise his voice at all, but he didn't need to. Draco could tell he was angry just from the way he expressed his syllables. "Because last time I checked, you and Potter were not…friendly, with each other. _At all._ " He added scathingly. Draco hid his wince, knowing he was in trouble of some sort already.

"Professor, I can explain if you'll let me-" 

"Save it, Draco." Snape commanded with a raised hand. Glancing around, he said in a low tone, "I will convene with you tomorrow about this…arrangement. Until then I won't say anything to your mother and father, although they will be…surprised to say the least, if I did. For now, enjoy the Ball." He swung his robes around and billowed away in a sea of fabric. Draco huffed out a breath he had been holding in his Godfather's presence. Great. Now the greasy bastard's going to snitch on him. Draco liked Severus _most_ of the time, but he absolutely despised the fact that the man was a direct line between Hogwarts and his meddling parents. Why couldn't he left alone for Merlin's sake? Draco shuddered at the thought of his father hearing about the Potter situation. He'd have to convince Snape somehow tomorrow not to tell them. 

Draco looked around his friends, hoping they werent' there and somehow died on the Great Staircase or something. He knew, just _knew_ , they were going to say something about him and Potter. Not that anything _happened_ , of course. He just didn't want to think about the dance for the time being, or maybe for the rest of his life. He considered going back to Potter and his lackeys to entertain himself a bit more, before spotting Pansy and Blaise waving at him from a corner. Blaise, the git, was smirking too infuriatingly smug to be allowed, and Pansy was suggestively waggling her eyebrows as she mock fainted in to Blaise's arms. Draco sighed. Potter's crew it was then. Giving them a bored look, he turned and traipsed away to where Potter and the Weasel were arguing with Granger. 

"What is it to you, Ronald?" Granger all but hissed at the boy. Draco sumrised the boy in question, whom was a shade of red he found extremely rare to be on a human being. It's like his freckles were a mere _seasoning_ of how much red could fit on a single person. Potter, Draco realised, was rather poorly caught in the crossfires of their argument. He stood helplessly as he watched Weasley and Granger have their little spat, fists clenched at his sides. 

"Why didn't you bloody tell me?" The Weasel accused. "Because you're an idiot!" Granger shot back, all the while Potter snapped his eyes between the two. Finally his eyes found Draco as he neared, and a moment of fear before relief flickered in his eyes. Draco decided to take mercy on the boy for once.

"I'm going to have to agree with Granger on this one, Weasley." Draco sidled up next to Potter, halting their argument, "You could have just asked her instead of being all jealous. One would think there was at least one cell up in that thick head of yo- Ow!" Potter had stomped on his foot quite rudely. 

"Shut up, Malfoy." He whispered roughly, not looking away from Weasley and Granger. The Weasel, however, was already scowling at Draco, and Granger was fuming as she looked between the three of them. 

"For Merlin's sake! I don't have time to deal with you lot. Ron. Grow up. Harry? We'll talk _later_. And _Malfoy_ ," She turned to him with the most venom in her voice, "I don't know what you're planning, or what you've confunded Harry with, but when I find out I will hex your fingers off!" And with that, she turned away and stomped to wherever Krum must have been sitting. 

Draco watched her go with wide eyes, all but a bit scared. Potter chuckled next to him when he saw his face, but stopped and cleared his throat when Draco glared at him. Weasley was staring after Granger in defeat. He slowly got up and walked to a Ravenclaw girl in silence, leaving Draco and Potter alone together again that night. 

"Those two…I'll never understand." Potter muttered, look forward with a strange look on his face. Draco stayed silent, feeling like he witnessed something he shouldn't have. Frankly, he never thought the three had problems, and even more that Potter was just the middleman. 

"We were going to go with the Patil twins. Me and Ron." Potter continued, "It was last minute because we couldn't find dates. I agreed to go with Parvati Patil and he with Padma." 

"I thought you weren't going with anyone." Draco was confused. So Potter had a date? "You didn't say anything when I asked."

Potter chuckled, still standing next to him and observing the mingling crowd. Some people were sat at tables and eating the copious amounts of food the elves had cooked. Other's were dancing with their dates, little clusters of people around the floor wrapped up in each other. Draco's stomach churned, but he didn't feel hungry at all. 

Then for a moment, he forgot where he was. Who he was with, why he was there.

It was just him watching people around the room. It felt nice to blend in to the aura of being around so many people. Where they'd all just look over him if he stayed still enough, quiet enough. It made him feel small. Not necessarily inadequate. A good small. Like he didn't have to worry. Why was he at a Ball, anyway? He couldn't recall. He didn't like Balls. Hadn't so since he was forced to attend them as a child. They were boring, and the company was always horrible. Some bland pureblooded child or the other, demanding to see his things and see if they had something better. He was confused. He didn't understand anything at the moment.

The walls were glittering quite nicely, though. That, Draco found, was nice enough to be here for. They looked like untouched snow had fallen on them. The kind that fell naturally from the sky and settled in a way that they looked so peaceful and undisturbed. Draco liked the simplicity of that. He liked simple things. Sometimes it was all just too much.

Potter shifted beside him, reminding him the boy was still there. He seemed to also be lost in thought. He looked so unguarded, as if he forgot Draco was there. Potter still had some height over Draco, and from where Draco was, he looked…relieved. It was a look he never saw on Potter. The boy was always moving, eyes wide, taking in information and acting on it. But now, for a few moments, he was just there. For a few moments, he just existed, like Draco had been too, gazing at the walls. Draco looked back out at the crowd.

"What are we doing here, Potter." He said, the words coming out in such a hoarse whisper he was unsure if Potter even heard them. Something flared in his chest at how plain the words came out, as if they might make a trail to something vulnerable inside Draco if someone knew to follow the path. Potter didn't look like he heard, but said after a moment, 

"Here where?" He asked. The question was so open, Draco felt like he shouldn't have known what he meant. A snowflake fell on his nose, but he didn't feel the cold he expected. 

"I don't know anymore." Was all he answered. Something flashed over Potter's face, but it was so fleeting Draco was unsure if it actually happened. The relieved look in eyes didn't come back, however. He looked at Draco, eyes simmering with the same heat he always saw in them. Because it's how Potter only ever looked at him.

"I said we would talk, remember?" 

Draco nodded. He felt weird, and didn't feel like talking at the moment. He wanted that silence back. But he had to engage himself in reality again. 

"Let's go now. By the Lake. Who knows how much time we have." Potter said, looking at Draco curiously. Draco nodded again, trying to brand the glittering walls in to his mind. For some reason, he didn’t think he would see them again. Draco didn't think the walls were what he needed, however. The feelings they gave him, his almost heart stopped. They eased his pulse, but they never made him feel more alive. Those feelings…yes. There resembled something unfamiliar, something not foreign but rarely seen. Those feelings felt like, resonated something closest to a state of being.

Peace. Draco felt complete, utter peace for a few moments. It scared him, because then he had to think about what he was without it all this time.

Potter nudged him back in to reality. He shook himself a little, and they walked out of the Great Hall together in silence.


	7. Damn egg

The dance ended with a swift flurry of notes and a calm segue. Bowing with a hand on his chest, Harry could feel his heart hammering under his palm. He stared at the ground, his chest heaving from the dance and his mind completely blank. Not knowing what to do with his hands when he rose back up, he quickly nodded at Malfoy and turned around as the other boy returned the gesture and did the same. He hesitated for a moment, wondering where he was, then finally spotted Ron and Hermione stood at the side of the floor. In fact, all the other couples were stood off the floor - him and Malfoy were the only ones still there. He swallowed nervously, his mouth suddenly extremely dry. 

Doing his best not to look like he was running, Harry made his way to Ron and Hermione. He dreaded what they would say to him now that they were a combined force, but thankfully for once, they seemed to be arguing between themselves. Edging nearer, Harry saw it was more than just an argument. Ron and Hermione were flat out verbally sparring. Suddenly he seemed unsure about interrupting, not knowing if he would make the situation worse or not. Just as he was about to go talk find Neville or someone else, he caught Hermione's eyes and she beckoned him over violently.

"Harry! Come over here and talk some _sense_ in to Ron!" She said angrily. Harry hesitantly walked over, 

"Uh…What's wrong exactly?" He asked wearily. Ron was already blooming in colour, his complexion now clashing with his dreaded maroon robes. He turned on Harry angrily, and Harry fought the urge to take step backwards.

"Did you know?" Ron all but yelled.

"K…Know what?" Harry stuttered.

"About her and Krum! You must have! You're both champions, you must have heard about it!"

"What? No, I never knew, Ron!"

Ron stared at him suspiciously from a moment and finally nodded, looking back at Hermione. The girl was seething, and Harry could understand why. Why did Ron have to be such an arse? It was absolute horrible timing.

"Uh, Hermione!" Harry blurted, trying to change the subject. She looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised in a way that reminded him of McGonagall. Did the girl have to resemble every mother figure in his life? "You..Uh - look very pretty." He cleared his throat and waited for her to cuss him out. Luckily, her eyes softened and she said sadly,

"Thank you, Harry. You look very smart this evening, and I like what you did with your hair, too."

Ron looked between them and sputtered at Hermione, "I agree with him! You look…er…nice." He said weakly, and Harry winced. The speed at which Hermione's eyes flash in anger at him was something Harry wouldn't ever forget.

"I don't care about what you think, Ronald. And to answer your question from earlier, Viktor asked _me_ to the Ball a week ago! And he actually _likes_ me!" She said, glaring at him. 

Just then, Harry saw a flash of white and spotted Malfoy walking up to them. Merlin, he had never been so relieved for the git to show his face anywhere near him. At least maybe he'll have an excuse to leave Ron and Hermione, he thought guiltily. Malfoy sauntered up next to Harry, seemingly amused by the argument happening in front of him. Harry watched the two go at it some more, not bothering to listen to what they said but just hoping they stopped it soon. He didn't like it when though fought like this, it made him feel out of breath and panicky, like he was about to be attacked. 

"I'm going to have to agree with Granger on this one, Weasley." He heard Malfoy interjecting next to him. Damn. It looked like the moment the git opened his mouth Hermione and Ron seemed to get angrier. Shit, he thought, fucking abort mission. 

"You could have just asked her instead of being all jealous. One would think there was at least one cell up in that thick head of yo- Ow!" Harry made sure to step on the same foot he did earlier. "Shut up, Malfoy." He wanted to say, but it just came out as a whisper as he kept his eyes glued on Ron and Hermione. Hermione's eyes narrowed as she looked from Ron to Harry and Malfoy, 

"For Merlin's sake! I don't have time to deal with you lot. Ron. Grow up. Harry? We'll talk _later_. And _Malfoy_ , I don't know what you're planning, or what you've confunded Harry with, but If find out I will hex your fingers off!" Harry, albeit also feeling rattled, sniggered at Malfoy's face. He stopped once the he caught the boys eye, and watched as Ron solemnly walked over to where Padma was talking to her sister. He cursed silently. This whole Ball was a shit show. Ron's problem was that he wouldn't express how he actually felt, and Hermione decided that for once she was going to let Ron figure out how to on his own. He sighed deeply. He knew the two had something going on, but he wasn't going to get involved.

"Those two…I'll never understand." He muttered, forgetting Malfoy was there. The boy didn’t say anything for once, and Harry sung his prayers heavenward. "We were going to go with the Patil twins. Me and Ron." Harry paused, turning to watch the dance floor and the people around it. He didn't know why he was telling Malfoy all this, but he decided it just needed to be said. "It was last minute because we couldn't find dates. I agreed to go with Parvati Patil and he with Padma." Malfoy mirrored his movements, and now they stood next to each other as Harry sunk in to himself and let the sounds of the Hall surround him. 

"I thought you weren't going with anyone. You didn't say anything when I asked."

Harry chuckled, but it felt humourless.

He didn't know what happened to him, but for a moment it became achingly easy to pretend he wasn't in the Triwizard Tournament, or wasn't at the Ball with questionable company, or that his best friends were fighting and he had no idea what to do about it. 

_If I don't figure out the clue to the Golden Egg, I might die._ He thought from nowhere, momentarily making his heart seize. He reluctantly pushed it down, along with the panic he felt from earlier. He listened to the music that was playing, a soft melody played by pianos, violins, trumpets; all at once. He let the sounds wash over him and tried to forget who he was. 

Harry didn't knew the name of what he suddenly let go of, but it was something that hounded him every moment of the day. It was a bone-deep, crushing weight kind of feeling. Harry felt it before he slept, and after the few moments of peace in the morning when all the thing he had to do came rushing over him, and suddenly he had a million things to do. Every morning, Harry would be awoken by Ron or Neville, or he would wake up on his own, and the amount of things he felt he had to do became suffocating.

_He had to finish his Transfigurations essay before first period. Damn, Potions with Snape that day. Would he get a detention again? He didn't have time for it. He needed to finish his Divination predictions before tomorrow. He wished he could manage time like Hermione, even without her Time Turner. He needed to write to Sirius. He would do that before Dinner - No. He needed time to figure out the clue then. Where was Sirius now? Harry hoped he was safe-_

Those were all thing Harry thought about every morning, and it always piled up as the day went on, carrying on to the next day. 

Standing there, in the Hall, however, Harry for once felt alright. He still felt tired, but now he knew what it was. That it had a name. 

He looked down at Malfoy next to him, having forgotten the boy was still there. Malfoy seemed to be lost in thought, and Harry knew he had forgotten Harry was there too. Not wanting to be caught staring, he moved his eyes back to the crowd, but felt something in his chest stir at the image in his head. He didn't want to look back, but he desperately felt urge to look at the boy again. The way Harry saw him just then had looked so different to how he usually looked. It was…jarring. His face was suddenly all soft lines and smooth curves. It was such a juxtaposition to how Malfoy usually composed himself, but just then Malfoy was anything _but_ composure. He looked strange, at peace. Why didn't he look like that all the time? He guessed Malfoy was too busy being a prat to actually look like that. _Shame_ , Harry thought, but stopped himself immediately and filed the train of thought somewhere else in his mind. 

It was nice though, he thought again. Being stood there with his perpetual rival, but not feeling the usual animosity he usually would for once. It made him think that he maybe things weren't how he thought they were, and for that he felt relief for once. 

"What are we doing here, Harry." Malfoy whispered next to him, the sound of his voice almost a direct echo of the way Harry's thoughts had felt like just the moment before. Harry was sure if he had verbalised his feelings from earlier, his voice would have had the same wistfulness as Malfoy had done then. At that current moment, it felt as if him and the Slytherin were somewhere else than the rest of the people in the Hall. Like they were behind a glass wall and people were too blissfully immersed in themselves to notice.

Harry swallowed, the way Malfoy's voice sounded almost unrecognisable, and clattered around with alarm bells in his head. It felt wrong, but also right.

"Here where?" He asked, trying his best to keep his voice level so as to not break the spell they were in. He needed to know what Malfoy was thinking. Was it just him, or did he feel it too? The moment of crushing realisation of something. He prayed to anything that would listen, prayed that Malfoy would give him any indication of what he knew, what he was thinking. Harry felt like Malfoy knew something, but he didn't know what.

"I don't know anymore."

Harry couldn't help but let his face react to that. The words opened up doors in his head he didn't know what to do with. He needed to set them away. He couldn't figure them out, not right now. They made him feel like he was plunging in to a bottomless, cold lake. Unsure, unstable, unable to float himself if he sunk. Harry preferred it on land, where he could stand, where he could see the lake but nothing in its icy depths. Listening to the alarm bells in his head, Harry's walls went back up, the doors closed with just force, and Malfoy became what he always was. If Harry had to elaborate on such a label for the boy, however, he wouldn't have been able to.

Remembering who he was with and suddenly feeling very tense, Harry wanted to put them both back where they were. "I said we would talk, remember?" 

Malfoy still looked strange. His eyebrows were relaxed and the enchanted snow settled on his face, but he didn't seem to care. He nodded, his gaze turning back to somewhere Harry couldn't point out. 

"Let's go now. By the Lake. Who knows how much time we have." Harry said, trying to coax a reaction out of the boy by telling him what to do. Malfoy, however, just nodded again. Harry cocked it up to something spiked in the Pumpkin juice, and nudged the boy to start moving. The glassy quality in his grey eyes disappeared, and Harry felt something in him stir. Hoping Malfoy would follow, he moved quietly out the Hall and prayed nobody saw them leave.

The last thing he needed was Rita Skeeter seeing Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy leaving the Yule Ball early together.


	8. Truce

Harry walked a few paces ahead of Malfoy all the way to the side of the Lake. He made sure to stop beneath a willow tree that would have obscured them from view if anyone decided to look out the courtyard. It was a secluded area, and Harry pleasantly noted it's suitability for staging a non-so accidental death of a certain Slytherin student. The moon was still a few hours away from the crux of it's path over the sky, but it shone regardless and cast it's beams over the water. Harry thought he might have enjoyed it, if certain _company_ wasn't present. 

Speaking of said company, the tosser was trudging across the grass after Harry, lifting his robes up at the hems. Harry whipped off his robes, grateful as the cool winter chill hit him. Heaving a deep sigh of contentment, he tossed his robes to the side and plopped on the ground. He closed his eyes for a few moments, waiting for Malfoy to catch up. 

"If you think I'm sitting on the ground, Potter, you're thicker in the head than I thought." 

Harry didn't open his eyes, knowing if he did he might give in to the urge to punch the boy.

"Fine. Stay standing, then"

Harry heard him huff and opened his eyes. He saw Malfoy stood up a good meter away with his arms crossed, looking at the Lake. His face was back to it's perpetual sneer, eyebrows furrowed and his mouth in a tight line. Harry stretched his legs out and leant back on his palms behind him.

"Alright, look. This evening has been…" Harry started.

"Dreadful?"

" _Traumatising_. But yes, dreadful covers some of it. I guess most of it is my fault. I went ahead and asked you to the bloody Ball, but only because I thought you wouldn't agree. The rest of the blame goes to you, however, for doing the honours."

Malfoy scoffed, "You practically _forced_ me to agree, Potter."

Harry's trusty anger begun to flare, and he didn't have the energy to control it this time. 

"I didn't _force_ you to do anything, Malfoy! Trust you to not be able to take responsibility for your actions! Did daddy teach you that trick?" Harry got to his feet, enjoying the outside be damned. Malfoy faced him with his cheeks blooming red in anger.

"You wanna go there, Potter? Shall I remind you I actually have a father to teach me anything?" Malfoy shot back. 

"Wow, Malfoy! Just wow!" Harry begun to fake clap, "Another orphan joke! How do you do it! I had no idea!" He stopped clapping and took a threatening step towards the boy, looking down at him with nothing but seething hatred and getting the same look back up at him. "Don't you _dare_ speak about my parents, you snake." He said levelly with restrained anger peeking out the edge of his tone.

Malfoy didn't move, didn't even blink at him in return, "Oh, please, Potter. If you haven't noticed, I will do and say whatever I please. I won't take shit from someone who keeps company with blood--traitors and mudbloods." He spat. Harry clenched his fists at his sides, wishing Ron and Hermione were there right now. Being with Malfoy alone while this angry felt unstable and dangerous. They could gladly kill each other and everybody would be too busy at the Ball to notice. 

Harry stepped away reluctantly, fists still tight and looked at the Lake to avoid Malfoys stupid face making him angrier. He mentally clapped himself on the back for making the noble decision in defusing the situation before it got out of hand. Hermione would have been proud. Ron would have not. Speaking with his voice tight, fighting the overwhelming urge to scream and punch the boy next to him, he bit out, "Don't talk about them like that. You have _no right_. You can't seriously tell me you believe in that blood purity bullshit. It's all just shit recycled from your father."

Harry saw Malfoy flail his arms in the corner of his eyes, "Of course I believe it! I was raised on it! Blood purity is _everything_ to wizards, Potter. I wouldn't expect a muggle-raised like _you_ to understand."

"What difference does it make that I was muggle raised?" Harry yelled, unwillingly looking at Malfoy standing defensively with the meter distance luckily restored. 

"Culture!" Malfoy yelled back, "Heritage! Traditions! Knowing what you came from! Magic is sacred, Potter. How it's been passed down is incredibly important. Purebloods have had Magic in their families enhanced and filtered and passed down to each other with our History! Everything about it is important!"

"That doesn't give you the right go looking down on others for not having that! Calling muggle-borns _mudbloods_ and people who don't bother with your pureblood bigotry _blood-traitors_."

"It's because they dilute our history! The come in with their muggle customs and technology and use magic with them in ways that go against how we've lived for hundreds of years! The people that support them support the loss of our culture!"

"Magic is magic, Malfoy! It's not your choice or anyone else's who is inflicted with it. How can you blame muggle-borns for something they can't control? Would you rather they stay in the muggle world and learn their magic there? What is it you want them to do?" 

"I don't give a fuck about what they do. The fact that they exist is enough to make me despise them alone."

"Well that's great, Malfoy. It's thinking just like yours that started a bloody war. It's a mindset like yours that gets innocent people _killed_! Wizards and Witches killed! What is blood purity if magical blood is spilt nonetheless?"

"I don't want to kill anybody-" Malfoy starts.

"It doesn't matter what you want! It happens anyway, Malfoy. And people like your father supported it. You wish they don't exist, but they do! I exist! Hermione exists! As does Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, the Weasleys! All muggleborns, half-bloods and so called _blood traitors_! What you think will kill us all one day. Your father will kill us, and someday so will you." Harry finished with his chest heaving from the exertion. Malfoy stayed silent. He was staring at floor where Harry's feet looking to be thinking hard about something. His faces looked so crestfallen in contrast to in the Hall, Harry wanted to doubt it was the same person. 

"So tell me," Harry continued, "Do you really believe in all that bloody purity bullshit?"

Malfoy looked up at him tensely, "Of course I do-" 

Harry threw his arms in the air, ready to admit defeat,

"But I would never, and I mean _never_ , want anybody dead for it. Please believe that, Potter." Malfoy finished. Harry laughed humourlessly and looked at Malfoy incredulously, "You're more naïve than I thought. Merlin, you've been sheltered. I haven't even been in the Wizarding World more than four years and I know more about reality than you."

"There's a lot you also don't know, Potter."

"Yeah, sure. Tell me Malfoy, as you so graciously always remind me, my parents are dead, are they not?"

Malfoy looked hesitant, not knowing where Harry was going with this.

"Go on! Are my parents not dead?" Harry urges with fake congeniality. Malfoy nods slightly, looking confused. "They are." He said.

"Right! Now I don't have any other family except for my mother's sister - muggle woman, of course. So my poor little orphan arse was dumped on my poor aunt, and I was raised in their muggle home for the first eleven years of my life. Nobody told me about magic. I was not told I was a Wizard. I wasn't even told how my parents really died." 

Malfoy was now staring at him curiously, and Harry continued, "Tell me, Malfoy, _please_ tell me, what I should have done to keep magical culture pure. What should I have done about keeping your history honourable and whatnot. Because not everybody can control how their life stumbles upon being magical. Not everyone has your bloody privilege of knowing where they came from and what place in society they'll have, let alone that it'll be at the very elite part of it. I had no family, some people have no magical family. It's not a big deal! So get your head out of your arse for once and look around. There's more to life than background and _blood_." 

Malfoy took a step back and whipped his body to the Lake. Harry calmed his breathing, his pulse going rapid-fire around his body. The only sounds were the lapping of the water and the heavy breathing from both boys. Malfoy looked angry, and even a bit lost. 

"Every word that comes out of your mouth is your father's, Malfoy. Keep that in mind." Harry spat, and sat down in the same spot as he did earlier, catching his breath. Malfoy stood rigidly, clutching the sides of his robes in his fists at his sides. His head was bowed, he seemed to be lost in thought. Harry felt his anger subside greatly, having said what he needed to quelling all his repressed anger for the boy for the time being. He looked up, seeing now the moon was at it's midpoint. It looked to be the night after a full moon, making Harry wonder about Professor Lupin. Was he with Sirius? Did they still see each other? Harry got caught up in thoughts about Remus and Sirius before he heard Malfoy speak,

"I don't hate Granger and Weasley all because of their blood. And I don't actually hate all of the mud-muggleborns in our school." He took a deep shuddering breath, "But you have to understand who I am. Who my family is. If I don't think like them then I'm just as good as a squib in their eyes. I…" He broke off, looking more and more lost as he spoke. His white robes stood out brightly in the darkness, and the moonlight seem to favour him specifically, to Harry's chagrin. "I know my father was…one of them. In my family, it's an _honour_ to be one of them. To have _been_ one of them. He never tells me about it, though. He never talks about it, and I never asked. I can tell something's happening again, though. He looks worried all the time and my mother keeps looking at me like she's scared of something. If I could do anything to stop it, I would. You must understand I want nothing to do with what my father was involved with in the war. I believe in blood purity, but I don't believe in murder, so don't you _dare_ group me in with the likes of _them_. My father may believe it's an honour, or he may not anymore, but I'm not going to bring about the downfall of the Malfoy name like my father almost did."

"Your father definitely still believes in it all."

Malfoy cocked his head to the side at Harry, a bit of heat in his gaze, "How would you know?" He asked accusingly.

"Second year? Diary?" Harry prompted as if it was obvious. Malfoy just continued to stare at him curiously. 

"He didn't tell you?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Tell me what." Malfoy snapped.

"In second year, your father gave Ginny Weasley a diary with a bit of Voldemort's soul in it." Harry said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Malfoy flinched when Harry said Voldemort's name, and stared disbelievingly at Harry. Harry would have thought it was funny without context to what they were talking about.

"Your father didn't tell you?" 

Malfoy shook his head, suddenly looking extremely pale.

"The diary possessed Ginny and she opened up the Chamber of Secrets."

"It was _her_?" 

Harry hummed in agreement, "It was technically Volde- You-Know-Who, but yeah it was her. You didn't know it was your father?" Malfoy shook his head again, staring at the ground blankly. 

"How do you know it was her?" Malfoy asked weakly.

"I was the one that got her out." Harry said simply, but he didn't want to talk about himself at the moment. He looked at his watch and saw they had been gone for an hour and nobody seemed to have noticed. All the better for him, he thought. The Ball was a drag. 

"I never knew he did that, honestly. He never spoke about it. He hid it from me…I-" He looked down at Harry from where he was standing with an expression Harry had never seen on him before. He realised it was fear on Malfoy's face. "You-Know-Who's…soul?" He asked shakily. Harry nodded silently, sweeping his eyes across the horizon. "So he's alive?" 

Harry thought for a moment, remembering first year, then his recurrent dreams, even his scar hurting time to time. 

"He's going to come back. Soon, but I don't know when." 

Malfoy seemed taken aback by what Harry said. He slumped to the ground, his white robes forgotten. He looked out at the Lake, then back at Harry.

"You mean that? You truly believe he's back?" 

Harry nodded, "Especially after what happened at the World Cup, he's gathering strength now. Supporters and the like - Death Eaters. Your father is probably one of them." Harry said, peering at Malfoy for his reaction. The boy said nothing, staring at his hands clasped together in his lap. 

"Please don't tell anyone what I said…about my Mother and Father I mean." Malfoy said. 

"Okay. I won't. Thanks for telling me that, though. I know I'm not exactly preferred company."

Malfoy shrugged and said, "You're really not, but…I can't really tell anyone else. People in Slytherin are…"

Harry scrunched up his nose, "Yeah. I know." He said, imagining if someone like Crabbe or Pansy knew his weaknesses too.

"And I get what you said earlier, about the blood purity. It's the most eloquent I've ever heard you speak actually. I always thought you and Weasel communicated in grunts and hand gestures to be quire honest-"

" _Malfoy_ "

"Right," Malfoy said, a small twitch in the corner of his mouth that faded as quick as it came, "What I'm trying to say is, I still believe blood purity is important, but I don't believe it's everything. I only consider it as much as I would about someone's grades or reputation. They're never an accurate representation of who a person actually is, and they certainly don't warrant being killed off or tortured. That's quite silly."

Harry couldn't suppress a small grin, "You're right. Remind me when I see Voldemort next that his ideas and methods are quite silly." 

Malfoy smiled, if only for a little bit, and that was enough to convince Harry that this night wasn't a complete failure. He got up, dusting off his trousers, then held a hand down to Malfoy.

"I'm not going to apologise about anything I've done to you over the years, because quite honestly you deserved them. You're a bully, you insult my friends and you almost killed me last year with the dementor episode. That being said, if you want to start over, I propose a truce. You're not so bad, if you don't open your mouth as much." 

The corners of Malfoy's mouth twitched at that.

"But you have to agree to never insult my friends again. You can't call Hermione a mudblood and Ron a blood-traitor. You'll keep your bigoted views to _yourself_ and stop being such a prick in general. You're not you father, so stop trying to act like it - frankly it's quite embarrassing." Harry smiled when Malfoy did, feeling good at getting all of this off his chest. Malfoy stared at his hand for a few seconds considering it carefully. Then he took Harry's hand and Harry pulled him up to stand.

"Fine, Potter. Call this a Truce. I may have to warn you that I can control my actions but none of those in my house. If I'm around them I may have to either tolerate their actions or go along with them. I promise I will never encourage or initiate them. Is that alright.?

"Fine." Harry huffed, then muttered under his breath, "Bloody Slytherins."

"Watch the mouth, Potty."

Harry smiled and let go of his hand. Malfoy grimaced at his dirt patched robes and begun patting them down irritably. 

"My robes! This all your fault, Potter." He snapped. Harry rolled his eyes and sat back down. He yawned deeply, "Just cast a scourgify on the later. I want to enjoy the outside a little more." 

Malfoy reluctantly sat back down as well, mirroring Harry's outstretched legs. 

"What are we doing here again?" He asked impatiently after a few moments.

"Enjoying the outside." Harry said with a sigh, then added curtly, "And also avoiding everyone inside."

Malfoy huffed in amusement, "Hear, hear, Potter."

Harry smiled, eyes closed, facing the moon.


	9. Genetic Disposition for the Unfortunate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amount of times I've misspelled Blaise's name in this chapter???? Fucking rude. I almost killed him off mid chapter for no apparent reason than never having to write 'Bliase' every again. 
> 
> If you're still reading, thank you so much!!!!

Draco woke up the next morning to Blaise sitting patiently at the end of his bed, smirking like the bloody idiot he was. When he saw Draco had awoken, his mouth curled from a smirk in to a full out malicious grin.

"Potter not with you?" 

"Oh fuck _off_ , Blaise." Draco grumbled, attempting to bury his face into his pillow in hopes it would smother him dead. 

"I must say, Draco, I questioned your taste at first! Not only was it a Gryffindor but it was the king lion himself!" 

Draco stopped moving and hoped Blaise would think he fell back to sleep, but the bastard went on, "But, by Merlin, that boy in his robes! Who knew Potter was so fit?" He asked incredulously. "I almost wished it was his hand on _my_ waist, Draco. You should have seen it, half the entire Great Hall was drooling over him while you were dancing. Not to mention whatever he did with his hair - Chosen One indeed." He said dreamily. Draco turned around to Blaise at the mention of Potter's hair,

"I did his hair." He said, still foggy from waking up. Blaise perked up at the words, raising his eyebrows enough that brought Draco's mind up to speed.

"I mean I used a cutting charm on his hair. Merlin knows he looked dreadful if I hadn't." He scoffed.

"Right." Blaise said in a pleased tone Draco didn't trust. "Well…?" He trailed off inquiringly.

"Well _what_ , Blaise." Draco snapped, sitting up and seeing that the rest of their dorm was empty. "And what time is it?"

"No idea. Cast a tempus you bloody muggle." Blaise replied, earning a glare from Draco. "And _well_ , what happened with you and Potter? Did you hex him? Did he hex you? You don't look particularly injured. Please tell me you dumped his body in the Forbidden Forest." He pulled out his wand and cast a tempus charm, showing it was only ten in the morning and that everyone else had gone to breakfast. Draco gave a start before remembering it was a Saturday and they had no classes. 

"No unfortunately, no hexing." Draco said leaning back against his headboard. He sat thoughtfully for a moment, thinking about the evening before and trying to remember what happened before him and Potter parted ways and went to their respective dorms. They had danced, Draco remembered bitterly, then they went outside at Potter's request - but why had Draco trusted himself to be led outside like a bloody fool? He could have been attacked! Or hexed! Or seriously maimed!

Nonetheless, Potter was too stupid to take advantage of it and _didn't_ hex or seriously maim Draco. By the Lake they talked, the whole conversation being a blur to Draco except the few parts Potter had spoken about muggles and…muggleborns? Yes, they argued about that for a bit. Then Draco's father came up and…his stomach churned as he remembered Potter's words about his Father, of what he did in second year. Draco truly had no idea what had happened. As far as thing like that went, his father kept him the dark. 

Then, for some insane reason, Potter offered him a bloody _truce_. Draco couldn't hide his grimace, much to Blaise's delight.

"Oh, Draco, what did you two _do_?"

"Ugh, nothing! It's just…"

"Take your time, mate. No breakfast until you spill."

"I hate you. "

"I know. Do go on."

"Well…" Draco started not knowing how much to tell Blaise in order to ensure he got teased the least. "After the, uh, dance, we agreed to talk about the whole thing, because it was rather weird and people kept asking questions."

"And you agreed to…talk?" Blaise asked in confirmation. Draco sighed and kneaded his forehead as if he had a headache. Unfortunately it was just Blaise's presence. 

"Not really, I mean he really just told me we would talk about it. We were almost about to start a fight in the middle of the bloody dance, so I had to agree."

"I do remember not seeing you both for a while after that - no, you two actually just disappeared outright after the dance. Merlin, I didn't think it was because you were _together_. I figured you went to bed and Potter weaseled off to his lackeys." Blaise said thoughtfully. "So you two agreed to talk, and then…"

"We went to sit by the Lake, or rather Potter did. Wasn't going to get my robes dirty." Draco said, "Then Potter started talking about Merlin knows what, and then he said something about my father, then I said something about his lack thereof…"

Blaise snorted amusedly, and Draco continued, "Then somehow…we got on to talking - no, arguing about bloody muggleborns!" He exclaimed, the memories finally coming back to him.

"Muggleborns?" Blaise exclaimed back, "What on earth would you and Potter have to possibly talk about there?"

'We started fighting about his friends - Granger? The mud- muggleborn. He went on about there being no reason to treat purebloods and muggleborns differently and such. Preaching righteously like the Saint he is."

Blaise suddenly looked very serious, staring off thoughtfully, "And…what did you say?" He asked, his voice quiet, almost cautious. 

"Well, if I'm quite honest - and Blaise this stays between _us_ \- I almost agreed with some, if not most of what he said."

Blaise looked at him in surprise, "Really?"

"Yes. It made little sense, bless his illiterate heart, but my views on blood purity were constantly countered by his logic - as unbelievable as it sounds." He said at Blaise's disbelief, "He had started to compare all of what I said about muggleborns to the war and what the Dark Lord did. Of course my family supported him, but look where that got my Father? Not only on the losing side but with a tainted reputation. I don't necessarily like muggleborns and I don't care about muggles, but they were being _killed_ , Blaise. I don't want anyone killed from my beliefs." Draco stared down at his tightened fists on his lap. "As much as I hated it, he made a lot of sense. And he made me realise that thing are a lot bigger than calling people mudbloods and being an arse about what I thought."

"What do you mean?" Blaise asked curiously.

"He told me things…about my father." Draco studied the lines on his palms, deliberately trying not to look at Blaise's face. "Things I didn't know before."

He felt Blaise stiffen, but the boy stayed silent as permission for Draco to go on.

"Remember second year? How apparently the Chamber of Secrets had been opened?" He felt his voice becoming less solid, less sure. He felt Blaise nod, the bed rocking very slightly. "It was my father who did it. He gave Ginevra Weasley some diary with…something, and she opened the Chamber. I had no _idea_ , Blaise. Why would he keep me in the dark? For what gain? I had to admit, I was happy the Chamber had been opened. I thought it might get the muggleborns and such to leave, but I didn't know what was _really_ happening."

"What was really happening?"

And Draco knew he had maybe said too much. He thought he should keep some of the stuff Potter told him a secret. For some reason, they felt extremely fragile and important. He decided not to tell Blaise about the piece of the Dark Lord's soul in the diary.

"There's another war coming." Draco said, ignoring Blaise's question. Blaise didn't seem to notice, "What? A war?" He gasped. Draco nodded gravely.

"Potter thinks… _he_ …is coming back."

"And what? We believe what Looney Potter thinks all of a sudden? What in Salazar's name is wrong with you?" Blaise protested. Draco's eyes shot up to Blaise finally, settling on the boy's widened eyes. 

"Blaise." Draco said in an even tone that didn't hide the underlying anger behind them, "If there is one thing I know about Harry Potter now, it's that he is _not_ a liar. He is a Gryffindor, mind you. He has no reason to lie, and is definitely not smart enough to - especially to _me_. When he told me that he believed the Dark Lord would be back, there was absolutely nothing on his face that suggested he believed anything otherwise. Don't expect me to ever admit this outside of this room, but I believe the git. He may be an idiot, but this is one thing he is right about."

"Draco! Do you hear yourself?"

"Yes, Blaise! I do!" Draco erupted. Taking a deep breath, he pinched the bridge of his nose trying to calm down. He gave himself a moment, then continued.

"You don't know what it's been like, Blaise. Thing are happening back at the Manor. With my father. I could feel it since last summer, like something's about to happen."

"But he died! Potter himself killed him!"

"All the more reason to believe him if he says he's coming back! Look, with what I heard about my father, what he did in second year, it all makes _sense_. I could tell he's been lying to me for a while but I was too ignorant to do anything about it. He never spoke to me about his 'business' dealings, what he did all the time."

"Why on earth should you care, Draco?" Blaise said.

"Because I don't want my father to become a Death Eater again, Blaise! I don't want him to become one of them again! I like the way my life is _now_. I don't want thing to bloody change! I don't want a Dark Lord, or a war over something as trivial as Blood Purity for the sake of murder!"

Blaise stayed silent, and Draco did too after that. They both sat pensively as Draco gathered himself.

"Right," Blaise started, "Say - hypothetically - that he _was_ coming back." He looked at Draco cautiously, assessing his reactions, "What side would you be on?"

Draco was taken aback by the question. He hadn't really thought about it before. Well, he had never really needed to. He sat for a moment and mulled over the question, feeling Blaise's stare boring in to him. 

Finally, he looked up at Blaise, "I have priorities to my family, I'm sure you know that…"

Blaise nodded glumly, looking slightly deflated at Draco's answer.

"But considering I entered a truce with the Golden Boy himself, that may make things interesting."

Blaise's head shot up to look at Draco in amazement. 

"What?"

Draco nodded matter of factly, "Yup. After we spoke, the git got up and offered me his bloody hand! Offering a truce and all that to stop being nasty to each other or something - I wasn't really listening to be quite honest-"

"So what does this mean, Draco?" Blaise said, considerably perked up from before. 

"It _means_ , dear Blaise, that I'm keeping my options open for the time being. If there is really a war I don't want to caught dead on the losing side - that'd be terribly embarrassing." He said, inspecting his nails nonchantly.

Blaise was grinning now, "You and the Chosen One in a truce? That's going to last around three days maximum. Did you forget that you were…well, _you_ , when you entered said truce?"

"Of course not! I figured I should take this not being a dickhead thing seriously. You are now looking at the new Draco Malfoy, Blaise! I prosper around muggleborns and half-bloods, giving charity and tranquil presence across Hogwarts! They bask in my pureblooded-ness. My adoring fans flock for my affection-"

"Alright, you git. We get it. What's your stake in it, then." Blaise said haughtily. 

Draco had the audacity to act mock offended, placing his hand achingly over his heart, "Me? An ulterior motive?"

"I said nothing about motives. You put that there yourself-"

"Regardless!" Draco bellowed, interrupting what Blaise was going to say. He climbed out of his blankets and stood on his bed, silk pajamas blazing in all his Malfoy glory and his hands outstretched around him.

"My stake, dear Blaise? I do all this now, and I get put on the right side of history! The Malfoy name, _my name_ , will be amongst that geezer's Albus Dumbledore and royal idiot Harry Potter's!"

He stood for a few moments, reveling in his projected greatness. Blaise was looking up at him, unamused, but Draco ignored that and rode his few moments of elation. 

Just then, Theodore Nott walked in whistling and looking like he was on top of the bloody moon. He stopped as soon as he saw Draco stood up on his bed, hands still in his pockets.

"Not a word, Theo." Draco warned, sitting back down and ignoring Blaise's snigger when his feet got tangled up in the blanket. Theo just continued to his bed as if he saw the same thing everyday, which was almost true, but Draco wasn't going to admit that.

"What's got you so chirpy this morning, Theo." Blaise prompted. Theo just shrugged, but looked excited Blaise had asked anyway. 

"Oh _nothing_ , gentlemen. Just met an amazing girl last night. Really hit it off, we did." He sighed dreamily, whisked up by whatever memory was of the girl as he leaned on his bedpost. 

"Is she Slytherin, at least?" Draco asked curiously.

"Nope!" Theo said, popping the 'P'. Blaise and Draco shared a look and watched Theo get what it was he needed and leave. When he was gone, Draco checked the time again and saw they had an hour until breakfast was over. 

At a rumble from his stomach, Blaise laughed and called out to Draco as he left for the hall while Draco went to wash up, "Be down soon. Pansy wants to talk!" 

Draco winced, imagining what the witch might possibly want to 'talk' about. He spent the whole time in the shower going over his conversation with Blaise, then what he said about Potter. His face flushed as he remembered he may as well _complimented_ the Gryffindor right in front of Blaise. Watching the water go down the drain, Draco finally recalled what happened after he and Potter's truce.

Inexplicably, Draco and Potter had sat next to each other for a good while under the moon that night. Neither of them spoke, but it was a nice sort of silence, punctuated by the small lapping sounds of the Lake. Draco wasn't sure how long they sat there, but soon enough Potter got up, dusting himself off, and walked back to the castle with a muttered "Goodnight, Malfoy." He didn't give Draco any time to respond, instead disappearing in to the darkness. 

"Rude." Draco had muttered to himself. Trust Potter to leave his date first. Not that he wanted Potter there as an alternative, it was just rude. Draco didn't stay long after that, making his way back inside and seeing the Ball was already over and everyone was already back at their dorms. Trying his best not to get caught Filch and his wretched cat, he snuck to the Dungeons. Getting in to his dorm, he undressed quickly and climbed in to bed without waking up his dorm mates. In almost seconds, he was asleep.

Draco would have counted up the entire night as a hazy fever dream if he hadn't told Blaise about some of it. He wouldn't be surprised if things between him and Potter were the same as they had always been the moment he stepped foot in to the Great Hall. Some strange part of him almost didn't want that to happen. After what he heard last night, he really did feel like things had to change. One of those things was being an enemy of Harry Potter. 

Pulling on a simple jumper and trousers after his shower, Draco made his way to the Hall. Walking in, he could see that it was busier than usual due to the fact that most people woke up later on weekends. Walking to the Slytherin table, he glanced across the Hall to see Potter must have already left. He wondered what the boy even did on weekends. Probably studying with that academic hellion Granger. Draco then realised Potter didn't _have_ to study because of the Tournament. The poor idiot must be figuring out the next clue then. 

With one week until winter break, Draco hoped the boy was at least _close_ to figuring it out. Merlin knows he probably wasn't. Draco sighed and plopped down between Pansy and Blaise, whom had been arguing about something inconsequential to him as he mulled over Potter and the Task.

Pansy looked at him delightedly when she saw him, "Draco! Man of the hour! Many of us were just discussing you and a certain-"

"Oh _for heavens sake_." Draco hissed. He stood up again, immediately drawing the attention of all the Slytherins as well as some students from the Ravenclaw table next over. Addressing everyone at the table in his most commanding, no-nonsense voice, he said,

"Right. I know you all have questions, but I do not care. _Yes_ , I went to the ball with Harry Potter. _No_ , it was not romantic. It was merely a political alliance, benefitting both parties _mutually_ , and nothing more! I wish not to speak about it with anyone, so don't bother slithering over to me - I'm looking at you Martha Hefley -" He said warningly, pointing at a particularly nosy second year that had been known to gossip in the past. The girl withered under his gaze, and he continued, "If you have any questions, please shove them. Thank you." He said, dismissing the now sour students at the table and sitting down once again. The first and second years looked intimidated and disappointed and many of the students in years older to Draco looked at him angrily, yet he pretended to pay no mind. 

He settled in to eat, blocking out the murmurings of his house around him. It worked for a while, before the voice of the very bane of his existence (besides Potter) began to speak.

"Draco!" Pansy hissed in his ear. He spooned some oatmeal in to his mouth. "Are we just going to ignore it?" 

"Ignore _what_ , Pansy." Draco said, irritated.

"Oh _nothing_ , you tosser-"

"Language, Pansy. What if I told your mother you spoke like that?"

"What if I told your mother you _went to the bloody Ball with Harry Potter_?"

Draco dropped his spoon with a clatter on to the table, "You _wouldn't_ , Pansy." He said, horrified. Blaise chuckled next to him and he elbowed him in the side. 

"I very much _will_ , Draco. Now spill about what happened last night."

Draco sighed exasperatedly and glanced at Blaise, deciding it would be more painful to keep everything a secret from the witch anyway. He told Pansy everything he had said to Blaise, leaving out the parts about his father and the possible war in the future. He pretended not to feel Blaise's stare on the other side of his face as he faced Pansy. 

"So you and Potter…a truce?"

"Mhm." Draco agreed, hoping he wouldn't have to talk about it again. 

"So you're both like, what…friends now?"

Draco spat out his pumpkin juice and started coughing violently, Blaise patting his back sympathetically although smiling devilishly. 

"Merlin, Pansy _no_! It's not like _that_." 

"It bloody sounds like it to me. Admit it, Draco. You did this to be his _friend_. Just like first year all over again!"

Draco shook his head violently like a petulant child. Merlin, Pansy had no idea how bloody _wrong_ she was! This was about politics! Alliances! Not some silly schoolyard friendship. 

"I have no idea how to convince you how very _delirious_ you sound right now, woman."

"Don't woman _me_ , Draco. It's not my fault you have zero sense of self-introspection."

"I do too! Right Blaise?" Draco said incredulously, turning to Blaise who was shrugging vaguely. Draco sighed and turned back to the last few bites of his food. Pansy said nothing more on the subject for a while, until,

"So how was it dancing with him?" She said.

"Well you saw it, didn't you? He was decent enough. I do think I'm missing some toes, though."

Pansy nodded as if that made complete sense. 

"You two did look dashing together." She said, sounding dream-like. Draco took this as the opportunity to stand up and start towards the door.

But just as fate decided it wanted to fuck him over for the rest of his life, Potter himself appeared at the door, windblown and panting as if he had just run all the way from his dorms. Checking his watch, Draco saw there was only ten minutes of breakfast left. 

"Cutting it a bit close, Potter?"

When Potter focused on Draco in front of him, Draco expected him to scowl or glare, or just ignore him as he usually did. However this time, Potter saw Draco and the corners of his mouth twitched a bit, as if he was about to _smile_ at Draco. 

"I slept in." He said, chest heaving and hand bracing him on the side of the door.

"Late night?" Draco asked innocently. Potter looked at him guardedly before seeing Draco wasn't trying to be a prat for once. He grinned mischievously.

"You should know that, Malfoy." 

Draco felt himself flush and heard some murmurings from behind him in the hall. Just then, he felt a hand on his arm - Pansy's - leading him out the door, Blaise flanking them. Nodding casually to Potter as the boy nodded back, the three walked out the Hall straight to the outside where they settled under a tree in the Courtyard, away from anyone else there.

Draco let Pansy handle him the whole way, quite honestly shocked at the lack of altercation that had just happened. He had been prepared to be civil to Potter from then on, but he didn't expect the boy to be so serious about the truce thing as well. It was almost as if Potter was being, Merlin help them all, _mature_.

He sat down on one of the benches, only to realise Pansy and Blaise were still standing, discussing something amongst themselves like they were parents called in to discuss about Draco in the Headmaster's office. 

"…gets fitter every time I see him-" He heard Blaise mutter to Pansy as she nodded.

"-I know! But now we have to solve his issue with Draco. How many people do you think-"

"What issue?" Draco piped in, but was ignored dutifully.

"-not sure. Slytherin didn't, so that's well. I think I saw some Hufflepuff's watching. Maybe some Ravenclaws, although I wouldn't worry about them. Luckily most of the Gryffindor's were gone, but the few who were left were too stupid to realise-"

"Realise _what_ , Blaise?" Draco snapped loudly, finally garnering the two conspirator's attention. "What on earth are you two on about?"

Pansy crossed her arms and Blaise touched the back of his neck sheepishly.

"What are we on about?" Pansy huffed, "You and Potter not fighting isn't a usual occurrence, Draco."

"I know! I honestly didn't expect him to-"

"Enough about Potter for the moment!" She cried. "Everyone was bloody watching you two just now. They were _listening_ , Draco."

"Oh." Draco said eloquently, realisation dawning on him with horror. 

"Exactly." Blaise said, "Everyone heard your exchange, _but nobody knows what you were talking about_!"

"It sounded incredibly incriminating!" Pansy finished for him. "You two need to talk things through! We can't have the Slytherin's thinking you've softened up to him or something, Draco."

Draco nodded, finally understanding how big of a decision he was making by becoming allies with Potter. The last thing he needed was his housemates thinking they were defecting or something like that. If it got back to his father…Draco shuddered at the thought. And with what Pansy was implying, he most _definitely_ didn't need anyone thinking him and Potter were… _involved_ , somehow. Draco shuddered again, feeling goosebumps appear on his arms. If the Slytherin's found out, he'd be cast out of the Slytherin circle altogether. He couldn't have that just yet if he was going to be of any use to Potter in the future. 

"Alright. I'll find some time to talk to him."

"Alone!" Pansy reminded him, hands braced on her hips threateningly.

"Of course, you hag. You're not my mother." Draco huffed.

"You'd better thank your family constellations for that. You'd be more careful about calling women derogatory names if I was." She said, coming to sit down next to Draco and Blaise doing the same. 

"Fucking Potter." Blaise said with a sigh. Pansy and Draco nodded, agreeing eagerly. 

-o-o-

Later that day, Draco made his way to Snape's office, dreading every step.

He knew the Potions Professor would have tracked him down eventually, so he decided to save the man the trouble. Normally Draco wouldn't be so averse to seeing Snape, but since it was about him and Potter, Draco was considering throwing himself out in to the Lake just to avoid it. 

Trust Potter to cause him hell when he wasn't even _there_.

Draco knocked on Snape's door twice, a permitting "Come in." letting him push it open. He walked in to see Snape busy over a bubbling cauldron. The air smelt like Sulphur and strangely of something sweet he couldn't place.

"Evening, Professor." He said, his heart beating rapidly but not letting his nervousness show on his face. 

"Ah, Draco." Snape drawled as he looked up. "Sit down." He said, gesturing to one of the stools on the table he was working at. He got closer and sat down, seeing a deep green mixture in the cauldron that had metallic undertones. 

"Evergreen?" Draco asked, inspecting the potion. Sitting there with Snape reminded him of those few times when he was younger when he watched Snape make potions at the Manor. 

"Evergreen with some Essence of Belladonna." Snape confirmed, stirring the potion gently until it was a brighter green and the mixture was now almost completely shimmering in the candlelight. 

"What's it for?" Draco asked, trying to avoid the coming conversation.

"Nice try, Draco." Snape snapped, setting down his stirring rod and pinning Draco with a steely look. "I'm still coming to terms with your…decision. I don't believe you and the Potter boy decided to put away your differences, so I'm stumped as to why you let yourself be…swept away by him."

Draco's mouth snapped open, "What - I was not _swept_ , Professor-" He sputtered. Snape just held up his hand. He seemed to be doing that to Draco a lot these days. 

"Regardless, Draco. I've decided I won't give word of this to you mother and father, although I am sure you can imagine if they knew."

Draco nodded grimly, slightly ashamed.

"I don't know what's gotten in to you, boy, but I'm sure you know better than to traipse with the likes of Potter. It will only bring trouble." Snape said sternly.

"Likes of him…Professor?"

Snape's face softened just a fraction, "You need not worry about that right now. Just be vigilant, and for Merlin's sake, leave Potter alone. The only thing him and his family are good at are at getting killed." He went back to his potion, stirring mindlessly, and Draco took it as his cue to leave.

"Have a good evening, Professor." He said as he opened the door. Snape didn't reply, and Draco left.


	10. A bit grey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a bit long!! thank you so much if you're still reading! I just started writing again because of this and it feels amazing that people even bother. thank you!!

By the time the first Monday back in classes after the Ball occurred, Harry was still no closer to figuring out the clue to the egg. Despite having the entire break devoted to the bloody clue, Harry never got past the wretched thing screaming bloody murder at him.

He sat in Double Potions first thing that morning, admiring a very resilient speck of dust in the air as Snape rambled on about the thick grey potion in front of him. He knew it probably wasn't best to piss Snape off by not listening, especially after the man looked at Harry with more disdain than usual when he walked in to class earlier, but listening to the man drone on about appropriate cauldron thickness gave Harry no incentive to pay attention. Harry figured it had to do with him and Malfoy at the Ball, but he left the issue for Malfoy to deal with. Harry sighed deeply at all the House Points they were bound to lose that lesson.

"You may all collect your materials and begin the first steps of the Potion." Snape drawled, snapping Harry's attention as people around him begun to get up and collect ingredients. He nudged Ron next to him, whom unfortunately looked as out of it as Harry was.

"Oi. What are we doing?" Harry hissed at him, hoping Snape didn't see their hesitation. Ron jolted and looked at Harry sheepishly.

"Oh, bugger. Sorry, mate. No idea."

" _Shit._ " Harry hissed again. He looked around and cautiously made his way to where Hermione was leaning over the ingredients table, inspecting a very volatile looking jar. He made sure to veer around Snape, an almost second nature instinct after three years of Potions.

"Hermione! You have to help me-" Harry started, urgently in a hushed tone. 

"Potter!" He heard Snape call out. Wincing, he turned around to face the man now towering over him. "Are you finding it difficult to comprehend picking up simple ingredients for this Potion." He said, a gleefully sadistic look in his eyes. 

"Er…No." Harry trailed off, "…Sir." He added at the glint of murder in Snape's eyes.

"Alright then." Snape said, clearly not convinced of Harry's thrilling performance of knowing what he was doing. "Remind me again, Potter. What potion are you about to attempt but inevitably fail at making?"

Harry cursed himself for not at least listening to the _bloody name of the fucking potion_. Hermione, helpful as always, said nothing and picked up the jar she had been eyeing and walked away. So much for _friends_. The girl was hell-bent on letting Ron and Harry 'be responsible for their own studying and education for once'. It wasn't particularly working, and Ron managed to porcure her notes successfully from time to time which Harry sidled in on. 

"The potion is…er…"

Just then he felt someone brush past him to grab something off the shelf behind him.

" _Ocular Replenishing Potion._ " A voice murmured softly in Harry's ear. The person pulled back, and Harry's breath hitched when he saw it was Malfoy. The boy didn't look at Harry, instead smirking at Snape as he left as if he hadn't just whispered the answer in Harry's ear. 

"Er, Ocular Replenishing Potion?" Harry tried to say confidently. Snape scowled, obviously disappointed he couldn't take more points off of Harry.

"Very well. Five points from Gryffindor for loitering around the ingredients tray, Potter."

A chorus of exasperated groans sounded from the Gryffindor side of the room. Harry flushed, irritation spiking in his gut and begging him to snap back at Snape. Looking at Ron's absolutely crestfallen face, however, Harry reluctantly suppressed the urge. He made his way back to the table after picking up whatever ingredients he had seen Hermione pick up, casting a glance at Malfoy as he passed. The boy was already involved in his potion, stooped over the cauldron and mixing the mercurial contents inside. He caught Harry's eye, and the git bloody _smiled_. Almost tripping with the ingredients held to his chest possessively, Harry nodded curtly to him and reached his table. He begun heating up his cauldron with the alkali base and started with throwing in the crushed Occamy Shells. Ron read out the instructions to him and sliced the ingredients as he went.

Harry shuddered, feeling unnerved. Malfoy was being especially…not prattish. He saw the boy only that one time during breakfast the morning after the Ball, so he hadn't really thought about the implications of their truce. Merlin, what was Harry thinking? He didn't think he could handle Malfoy being so…not Malfoy. The idea of Malfoy actually taking it seriously was almost absurd. He didn't think the boy knew how to tie his shoelaces without daddy's approval. It was something else entirely that he was being civil, let alone _nice_ to Harry. Did that night at the Ball really have that much of an effect on him? Harry decided to keep his guard up regardless, however. Merlin knew what motives he had.

"Harry, mate. You got the Evergreen?" Ron said as he peered at the textbook as if it might bite him.

"Yeah, here." Harry handed it from his side to Ron, who stared chop and crush the Evergreen leaves. Harry adjusted the heat on his cauldron, looking around the room as he waited for Ron. As he leaned back on to his desk, back to his cauldron, he caught the glare of Parvati Patil from across the room. She was shooting straight daggers at Harry and his skin jumped. He turned back around, "Uh, Ron?"

"Yeah, what." Ron said absentmindedly. 

"Did you apologize to Parvati like I asked you to?" Harry asked wearily. He had asked Ron just moments before the Ball to do it for him as he never had the time. Harry felt shame creeping over him for basically standing the girl up.

"What? Yeah I did Why?" He asked confusedly, looking up and catching Parvati's eye as well and looking quickly back down at his chopping. "I guess she's still mad." He muttered, and Harry pretended to stir the potion some more to make himself look busy. He slowly turned around to Parvati again and mouthed a sincere ' _Sorry_ ' to the girl. Her glare softened and she nodded approvingly, leaning back to talk to Lavender Brown.

Sighing with relief, Harry turned back to Ron and added the crushed Evergreen to the base. The colour immediately changed in to a light grey, and Harry stirred a few times clockwise as Ron measured the correct volume of some clear lilac liquid he had grabbed. 

"Is that the Essence of Bellodroma?" Harry asked curiously. Ron checked the book again,

"Yeah, think so." He said as he precariously poured some in to a tube. 

"It's _Belladonna._ " He heard Hermione hiss irritably behind them.

"Belladonna, right." Harry said, shooting a fake glare at Ron as if he should have known better, earning him a shove. He added the Belladonna, and watched as the potion turned in to an endearing shade of silver. 

"Turned out well enough, though." He heard Ron say.

"What, the potion? Harry asked, surprised Ron was encouraging their potion they were bound to mess up yet. 

"No, you dolt. Parvati ended up going with someone else, and it seemed like they really hit it off."

The volume in the room had decreased as everyone focused on their potions respectively. Harry added some of the remaining ingredients, hoping they didn't blow up the whole Potion.

"Really? That’s good then." Harry said, relieved slightly. "Who was it?"

Ron scrunched up his nose as leaned in to Harry, "Some bloke from Slytherin called Theodore."

"Slytherin?" Harry asked, surprised. Ron nodded mournfully. 

"Theodore Nott, I think his name was. Decent enough for a snake. Still a bit poncey if you ask me, but he was good to Parvati."

Harry smirked, feeling his chest elate at Ron's words. 

"Well, Ron? Is his name Theodore…" 

Ron looked at him expectantly, sensing there was something like a punchline coming.

"…Or _Nott!_ " Harry finished, expecting raucous positive feedback at his joke. Instead he got Ron staring him with a sympathetic look on his face and a few people around him looking at him weirdly. He was pretty sure he saw Snape stop and stare at him in the corner of his eye.

Then somebody behind him _laughed_. 

Harry turned around triumphantly, looking to share his great joke with someone who understood fine humour, only to see none other than the last person he possibly wanted to share this moment with. 

Malfoy was smiling down at his parchment, writing down notes from the lesson. He didn't seem to be aware people were now staring at him or that he had laughed out loud at all. His partner nudged him roughly and he looked up quickly, his smile disappearing when he saw Harry.

"Oh." Malfoy said, looking the most inarticulate Harry had ever seen him. Watching Malfoy's cheeks blossoming in pink and feeling himself flushing as well, Harry turned quickly back to his potion, which was now showing signs of preconceived failure. Trelawney would have been proud. The chatter around the room resumed, along with a bit more murmuring than usual. 

"Blimey, trust Malfoy not to have a sense of humour." Ron muttered and Harry wacked him with his textbook. 

"Ow! Hey!"

"He laughed because it was _funny_ , Ron. Not my fault you inherited your sense of humour from the same place Percy got his."

"Why are you defending the ferret?" Ron asked incredulously, rubbing the back of his head. 

"I am bloody well not! That's besides the point, though. It was a good joke." Harry said, siphoning his half-ruined potion in to a vial to give to Snape. 

"Yeah, and my aunt's Celestina Warbeck." Ron muttered to himself, and Harry rolled his eyes. He left the potion to cool and started on his notes, trying to avoid the presence of the Slytherin behind him or the stares he felt digging in to the back of his head. 

Harry hadn't had the nerve to tell Ron and Hermione about the truce he and Malfoy got involved in. It just seemed too bizarre to even explain to them, especially if the two were going to become hyperactive about anything to do with the Ball. It seemed both Ron and Hermione had a silent agreement of their own to ignore whatever they'd been fighting about that night. Harry decided it was his kindness as a friend not to aggravate the agreement.

It made him feel okay about hiding it from them for the time being, at least. 

He finally mustered the courage to glance at back at Malfoy, whom was invested in his notes again, twiddling his quill between his fingers. The potion next to him looked perfectly metallic and silver, as expected. 

Harry felt Hermione lean over their shoulders to check their notes, a habit she had developed over the years. Harry attributed the act alone to how Ron and Harry made it all the way to Fourth Year. 

"What colour was your potion, Harry?" She asked curiously, glancing between his and Ron's parchment.

"Uh, like a grey? I think it's supposed to be silver, though."

Hermione shook her head absentmindedly, clicking her tongue, "Did you two read the introduction at all?" She asked disapprovingly. 

"Obviously not, Hermione." Ron chuckled without looking up. Hermione just rolled her eyes and grabbed Ron's textbook from where his arm had been resting on. Ignoring his grunt of annoyance, she flicked through the pages while speaking,

"You two, I swear. It says in the introduction that the Ocular Replenishing Potion is a restorative supplement for one's tired, distressed or dry eyes. It's mostly a medicinal potion, but people brew it at home too." She said, finding the page she wanted and stabbing a finger at one of the crowded paragraphs. "If you had read it, you would been able to include in your notes that the appearance In colour of the potion isn't necessary to be stated, only whether it has the desired effect."

Harry and Ron nodded hesitantly, both secretly hoping Hermione would explain it better for them.

"Oh for God's sake. We have OWL's next year!" Hermione exclaimed. "The Ocular Replenishing Potion looks differently in colour according to the individual looking at it. It takes on a colour the individual's mind finds most appeasing, or relaxing. It's developed to soothe your eyes just by looking at it before you even drink the potion." She explained impatiently. Ron and Harry's eyes widened at each other, and they immediately started crossing out lines and replacing sentences in their notes. Harry heard Hermione sigh audibly and he praised the day they fought the troll together.

"What colour is yours, Hermione?" Ron asked, dipping his quill in to an inkwell rapidly as he speed-wrote.

"Oh, a shade of red."

"Mhm. Which shade?" Ron asked, still working. Hermione just shrugged vaguely, walking back to her table. 

"And yours, Ron?" Harry asked, finishing off massacring his parchment and corking their potion.

"Mine's bloody blue. How does that work?" He asked, staring to pack up along with Harry. Harry shrugged and went to put his extra ingredients and deposit his shitty potion at Snape's desk, telling Ron to go ahead to Charms without him. 

As he put the excess Essence of Belladonna back on the shelf, a pale hand came up behind him and did the same. He knew it was Malfoy even before the boy muttered in his ear so quietly it could have just been an exhale of breath. 

"We need to talk." Malfoy said, wasting time by adjusting the placings of the vials and jars. Harry dropped a pair of tongs, hearing Snape mutter irritably behind him. Harry bent to pick it up and put it back, leaning in closer to Malfoy. Barely moving his lips, Harry said, "When are you free."

Malfoy shoved him away, his usual sneer back on his face so quickly Harry was almost taken aback.

"Out of the way, Potter. Merlin knows all you're good for is wasting potions ingredients." He drawled. Snape came up behind him and did what Harry thought was smile.

"Is there a problem, boys?" Snape asked scathingly. Malfoy scoffed and pushed past Harry and out the class with his bag hastily thrown over his shoulder. Harry quickly moved to pack his things up, seeing the class was now empty and rushed out the room. Cursing Malfoy the whole way, he just made it to charms and sat down with a huff. His mood was suddenly even more sour, and he pointedly ignored Ron and Hermione's nudges of concern, waving them off with curt replies. 

Only at around half way through the lesson, as they were practicing combination charms,9 did Harry feel something in his pocket. Pulling out a piece of paper, he quickly shoved it back in realising it was from Malfoy. Harry chastised himself for over reacting for no reason. He remembered Snape hovering behind them while they were speaking, and Harry was almost thankful Malfoy acted first. Harry wondered whether the boy had to be so bloody dramatic about it, though. It was better than Snape getting suspicious of them, at least. Bloody Slytherins. 

Getting permission to go the bathroom, Harry borderline scurried out of the classroom and settled in an alcove nearby. He pulled the note out and read it.

_Potter, same place by the Lake. Tonight, after dinner. Come alone. DM._

Then with hurried writing underneath it, 

_p.s. Don't worry, I won't hex you. Truce, remember?_

Harry considered for a moment, wondering if he should involve Ron and Hermione before going to see his rival alone in the dark. Especially when said rival was unconvincingly promising not to hex Harry. He didn't quite trust Malfoy yet, even if they agreed to an armistice. Merlin knew if the boy would pull a First Year and just not show up again. 

The day after the Ball, Harry had sat down with Ron and Hermione in the Common Room while everyone else was at breakfast. Harry sat on the floor in front of the fire and Ron and Hermione were up on the couch in front of him. He spent a good ten minutes trying to get Hermione to comprehend the fact that he went to the Ball with Malfoy willingly. 

"But why on earth would he agree?" She cried.

"I don't know, Hermione. He said I practically forced him to. Must be some Slytherin power play or something."

"You would know about that, wouldn't you Harry." Ron said, clearly establishing whose side he was on. 

"What? What does he mean, Harry?" Hermione said, looking extremely distressed for it being ten in the morning.

"Nothing! Ron thinks I acted like a bloody Slytherin that evening, baiting Malfoy like that." Harry said hotly. He scowled and Ron who shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Hermione stared at Harry curiously, and he could tell she was thinking very critically about something. Harry flushed and looked down at his shoes away from them.

"Ron's right, Harry. It was very cunning." Hermione said thoughtfully after a while.

"But I'm not a bloody Slytherin!" 

"It doesn't matter! And we know you're not, Harry. House's aren't everything, although you must admit it was something one of them they would do. At least now I can begin to understand why you took…him." She said, her nose wrinkling. "It's just extremely bizarre to me. And he didn't hurt you at all?" She asked suspiciously. 

Harry shook his head, "No, actually. We just danced and that’s it." He glossed over the part where he and Malfoy went outside for some reason, "I think I hurt him more while dancing to be quite honest." He said sheepishly. He thought for a moment, pushing up his glasses, "Although he did take me outside and point his wand at me at one point."

Ron snorted in to his hand, and Harry and Hermione stared at him. 

"What? Don't you two know wand jokes?" He asked in disbelief. Harry and Hermione turned away from Ron and Harry continued.

"He didn't do anything to me, though. He just…" He said, running his fingers through his hair.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione said urgently.

"Nothing, Hermione. I'm alright. He just…he cut my hair." He said slowly. Both his friends eyes flicked to his head and he suppressed the urge to pull his hood up.

"Oi!" Ron started, "Your hair's short! It didn't look like that yesterday!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron and ignored him, "I was wondering how you managed to do that, Harry. You were never good at cutting charms."

"Er, yeah. It was him." Harry said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

"Well it doesn't look bad. That's one good thing to ever come out of his wand, then." She said appraisingly, both of them ignoring Ron snorting in to his hand again. 

"So are we all…" Harry started cautiously, "Are we good now?" 

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, Ron seeming to be waiting for Hermione's approval. Soon she turned to Harry and reluctantly nodded. Harry smiled, feeling a weight on his chest lift off of him. The spent the rest of the morning talking about Sirius and the Egg clue, before Harry realised they were late for breakfast.

"Oh, we already ate." Hermione said bluntly.

"What? Why am I just sitting here waiting for you guys?" Harry cried, rushing up and starting to run towards the Portrait. "See you guys later!" He checked his watch, cursing when he saw he had only a few minutes left before the food disappeared. 

Then he ran in to none other than Malfoy in the Hall. The exchange was weird, and extremely docile compared to the ones in their past. Harry was too busy catching his breath at the time, but he could have sworn he saw Malfoy start to blush before he was dragged away. At least he wasn't the only one who found it bloody weird between them, but it was definitely easier to not waste energy on egging each other on that early in the day. Harry almost felt a sense of loss when Malfoy left without ever throwing him a sneer or insult.

Harry crushed the note in his hand and stuffed it in his pockets again, making his decision. Malfoy hadn't given him a reason to doubt their ceasefire just yet, so Harry resolved to honour it and humour the boy tonight. He wouldn't tell Ron and Hermione just yet, but if things didn't go well tonight he'd put an end to things and never bother with it again. Why would Malfoy want to see him, anyway? 

Harry walked back to class, and passed through the day in a state between his thoughts and the lessons in front of him.

-o-o-

After a rushed dinner, Harry stammered a quick, "Gotta go…Egg. Tournament. Bye!" And tried not to look like he was running that fast out of the Hall. Neither Ron nor Hermione seemed to think anything of it, continuing to argue about something together. He checked his watch, hoping Malfoy would be there already since he wasn't at dinner.

He crossed the courtyard cautiously, wishing he had bothered to bring his Invisibility Cloak. The stupid thing was tucked away nicely in his trunk upstairs. 

He made to the edge of the lake and scurried to the secluded spot under one of the Willow trees. Malfoy was already there, sitting down on the ground to Harry's surprise. He was busy inspecting the soil around him and throwing some of the rocks in to the Lake.

"You'll make the squid angry." Harry said, walking down to their spot and sitting down a respectable distance away. 

"The squid likes me, so it's fine." Malfoy replied, and Harry would have though he was teasing him before he remembered that the Slytherins slept in the dungeons beneath the Lake.

"Have you actually seen it?" Harry asked curiously.

"Yes, in fact. A few times in my dorms. Scared the bloody shit out of me."

Harry suppressed a laugh at the image of Malfoy crying out as a huge squid past his windows while he was in bed. He settled for a crooked smile which he tried to hide by angling his head away from Malfoy and to the lake, a mirror of how they sat the night of the Ball. 

"Oh, before I forget." Malfoy said, fishing through his robes and bringing out his wand. Harry's hand instinctively tightened on his own, which he had been holding the whole time he was there out of habit. Malfoy, however, regarded Harry's hand on his wand with a raised eyebrow and tossed Harry his own wand. It flew in an arc straight in to Harry's lap, it's dark wood shiny and smooth. Harry picked it up cautiously, holding it out in the light.

"Why?" He asked, inspecting the weight of the wand in his hand. It didn't feel that strange in his palm, but it definitely had a different thrum of energy to his own. 

"Just collateral. I didn't think you'd trust me right off the bat - and I'll trust you _not_ to throw my wand around, Potter." 

Harry quickly stopped flipping the wand in the air and placed it obediently next to his on the ground. 

"So what is it you want." He said. 

Malfoy sighed, "What makes you think I want something?" 

"Then why am I here?" Harry said hotly, his patience wearing thin. He felt the last of his fraying nerves burn out from the whole day, his body almost entirely wrung with tension. He started to get up.

"Alright, alright! I'll get straight in to it." Malfoy assured hastily, Harry seeing something almost like fear on his face. He settled back down on his spot, crossing his legs. "I want you to know that I'm…sorry."

Harry almost jumped up from shock. "What?" He said, bewildered. 

"Uh, yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I'm…bugger."

Harry smiled victoriously, looking at Malfoy's tightly held features as if the words were painful.

"I'm waiting." Harry sung, thoroughly enjoying the moment. Malfoy scoffed and tried again, taking a gulp of air.

"I am sorry." He bit out, his head bowed.

"What for?" Harry prompted, his chin resting on his palms staring at the boy.

"For being an arse." He said quietly.

"And?" Harry said, trying his luck.

"And being mean to your friends. Calling them names-"

"-Calling them _derogatory_ names."

"Right." Malfoy all but snapped. "For calling Granger a mudblood and the Weasel-"

" _Weasley_." Harry shot back warningly. 

"Ugh. Fine. Calling Weasley a blood traitor." Malfoy wasn't looking at Harry at all but instead at his palms, but whatever worked for him, Harry guessed. 

"Is that all?" Harry asked urgently. Malfoy glared at him but continued, "I'm sorry for almost killing you with the dementor thing last year, and that's the last apology you'll wring out of me tonight.' He added sternly. Harry nodded and thought for a moment, letting the words sit in his head a little. He looked out at the Lake for a while, growing more and more fond of the peacefulness it had in contrast to during the day.

"Why are you apologising?" Harry said finally.

"What do you mean why am I-" Malfoy snapped irritably.

"I mean why are you apologising _now_. Or at _all_. I don't get it. What happened to the usual Malfoy?"

"The usual Malfoy never knew his father was intending to serve a madman in a war for the second time." Malfoy growled. "I may be a dickhead but I'm not a murderer, or some extremist."

"Wait, you don't…you know, agree with everything your father says?" Harry said, turning to Malfoy quite confused and deciding not to pursue the dickhead comment for the time being. 

"I do - or I did. It's complicated. I just…" He leant back on his hands, surprising Harry again when he saw Malfoy's palms curling up in the soft earth. "He never speaks to me much. He just taught me about politics and etiquette and all that other Pureblood crap when I was a child. That was the most he ever spoke to me in his life during those lessons."

"And this included all the blood bigotry?"

Malfoy grew a wry smile over his face, staring off somewhere in to the horizon. The act threw Harry off balance for a moment, and put him back over that same bone-chillingly icy Lake as during the Yule Ball. He shook himself out of it quickly, an involuntary shudder running through him. Luckily, Malfoy didn't seem to notice.

"Yes, this included the blood bigotry." The boy said ruefully. "And I'm still a Pureblood. I still take pride in it, but now I'm rethinking everything. All he does is talk about the war when he does speak to me over holidays. Odd little remarks about the Dark Lord or some muggleborn at the ministry he didn't like. I never noticed it until now but he made it sound like he _would_ get his revenge on them. Like he talks about the war, but it's in future tense. I just never thought about it enough."

"And now I'm thinking, when was he planning to involve me? When the Dark Lord came back? When our family was in the midst of a war again? I know for sure my father won't just stand aside if he came back, not with how much he idolises the Lord. Will he make me join them too? I don't bloody _want_ that." Malfoy's hands dug in to the dirt behind him, his gaze still far away but his eyes now troubled. "I let my father guide me how he wanted me to live my whole life. Don't you think I know people don't think like the old Pureblood's do anymore? It's a different world to when our parents grew up. I tolerated his beliefs about blood purity and muggleborns my whole life, even letting it control how I made friends and acted towards people, regardless of their characters. And now you tell me he almost killed a couple of _children_ in Second Year, for Merlin knows what reason other than them being muggleborns? I'm afraid to admit that I agreed with it back then, maybe even liked it, but now I'm older and I realise that it was fucked up, and they had _families_ back home. These were real people and not useless pieces in chess you could rid of to make up your perfect ideal reality. I don't want to be that person. Maybe I don't even want to be my father." He stopped talking abruptly, his voice cracking at the end of his sentence. Harry gave him some time, not filling the silence between them while knowing it must have been difficult for the boy to speak so much. He let Malfoy's words sink in to him and simmer in his mind. 

"I'm sorry." Was the first thing Harry could think of to say, although he regretted doing so immediately knowing it might make Malfoy defensive again. 

The boy instead quirked an eyebrow curiously at Harry, "What could you be sorry for?" He asked genuinely, like he didn't believe Harry could be any such thing. 

"I don't know. I'm sorry we never got along. Maybe because I never took your hand in first year?"

Malfoy scoffed, but said gently, "I was a prat back then. You did yourself a favour, Potter."

"Right." Harry said, suddenly feeling shy and self-conscious, "Well I'm also sorry that you had to…you know, find out about your father like this. It must be awful after looking up to him so much."

"No. I'm glad I know. He might have just kept lying to me until the Dark Lord showed up on our doorstep one day as the guest of honour." He saw Malfoy shudder, and Harry shuddered too. "I'm sorry I said those things about _your_ father that night." He added sincerely. Harry almost blanked out. Since when was Malfoy so… _this?_ He looked like a completely different person to the one he knew for the past three years. It's almost like the boy grew up in to someone else, and it made Harry feel very strange.

"It's alright, but stop saying sorry so much, will you? You're freaking me out to be quite honest." Harry said jokingly, but he meant some of it as well. Malfoy smiled again, something Harry felt like he would never stop being startled by. 

"Sorry." Malfoy said with a mischievous grin. Harry snorted and couldn't help but start laughing afterwards. After a moment, he heard Malfoy join in. The sound of it put an image in to Harry's mind of light that filtered in through windows during the day. The kind that was golden and clear, illuminating every speck of dust flying through the air. He then recognised it from Potions earlier that day.

"Hey, was it you who laughed at my joke during Potions?" Harry asked, now feeling daring and confident speaking to the other boy. He saw Malfoy flush and look away, and Harry knew the answer.

"It wasn't even funny." Malfoy lied. Harry's grin grew wider.

"No? Why _Nott?_ " He said proudly. That's what broke Malfoy a second time, a small laugh escaping his lips. He stopped laughing almost immediately, and glared at Harry. 

"Alright, Potter. Give me my wand. Fuck this truce." He said, attempting to scoot over to Harry and grab his wand. Harry reflexively grabbed them and moved away, laughing carelessly. He couldn't believe how at ease he felt, especially considering who he was with. They both settled down again, Harry still holding both their wands in one hand. 

"Malfoy?" He asked nervously.

"Mhm?" The boy replied, looking like he was half-listening with a serene look on his face. 

"Not that I'm not grateful, or that I didn't like- no, I mean I didn't _like_ it per se-"

"Merlin, Potter. Spit it out. You babble like a First Year."

"Right. Er. Well, why did you come and tell me all this?"

A flicker of something passed over Malfoy's face and Harry feared he had screwed everything up. Luckily, the boy's face softened.

"I'm not sure. I just needed you to believe that I was committed to the truce thing. And so far, you're the only one who could remotely understand what's going on, if you get what I mean?"

Harry shook his head regretfully at Malfoy, and the boy begun to reiterate, "Well I can't exactly tell anyone else my father might be becoming a death eater. Especially not the Slytherins." Malfoy added, as if reading Harry's mind, "Who better than someone who already knows? And I need _you_ to understand that I won't be like him. If you understand, then somehow I'll feel better about it. Like I'm not going against my father's teachings for no reason."

"But you believe that Voldemort might be coming back? Nobody's ever believed me, last I would expect was you."

"Well, that's the funny thing, isn't it. I'm one of the only few people who _would_ be able to believe you. What you told me last time fit in so well with that's been happening at home and with my father, I'm the only one that has the evidence to back it up, thus it makes sense enough for be to believe you. You rather just confirmed what was in front of me."

"Oh. Well that's…"

"Weird?"

"Yeah." Harry chuckled softly. "People think I'm round the bend nowadays. That hag Skeeter's no help. They think I do it all for attention, and this Tournament's done nothing to get me out of that."

"About that," Malfoy said, peering at Harry inquisitively, "Did you actually put your name in?"

"Would you believe me even if I said no?" Harry said tiredly.

Malfoy scoffed, "I believed you when you said a murderous dark wizard was coming back from the dead, I think I can comprehend your inability to surpass Albus Dumbledore's spellwork."

"Watch it." Harry said threateningly, but it had no heat and Malfoy just chuckled in response. "So no. I didn't put my sodding name in that Goblet. Joke's on me for expecting a normal year for once."

"Joke's on _all of us_ for expecting a normal year without Harry Potter for once." Malfoy laughed, and Harry scowled at him. "But how on earth did it happen?"

Harry proceeded to tell Malfoy about the theories that someone else had put his name in to put him in harm's way or another. It felt wrong at first to tell Malfoy, but the boy in front of him listened intently, not a hint of ill motive behind him. Harry chastised himself for putting blind fate in to the boy, but kept going anyway as they discussed how Harry's name might have been entered in to the Competition. 

"Do you think it could be…Death Eaters?" Malfoy asked, face blanching.

"Well I wouldn't put it past them. They were there at the World Cup. You remember?"

Malfoy nodded, "I saw you in the woods, remember? A bit before the Dark Mark went up."

Harry nodded as well, remembering that night and the sick pallor of green that surrounded the Mark, casting shadows over Ron and Hermione. 

He looked at the boy sheepishly, "I have to ask…uh, do you know anything about…that?"

Malfoy's face crumpled, and Harry almost wanted to take back the question completely. Malfoy, however, answered anyways, "I didn't see anything. My father disapparated me and my mother as soon as the Mark went up, so it couldn't have been him."

"Right. Oh, well…that's good."

"Potter, there's also something else we need to discuss." Malfoy said, his tone now serious.

"After all that there's more?" Harry said, somehow dreading what Malfoy might be about to say in case it dampened whatever comfortable mood they'd created.

"I need you to agree to do something for me. For each other." Malfoy said, his eyes suddenly steely and resolved. They almost looked like the old Malfoy, if they'd been accompanied by a sneer.

"Oh…er. Alright, what is it." Harry said nervously. 

Malfoy resettled on the spot he'd been sitting on, his body now facing Harry's completely. "From now on we need to tell each other everything we know. About the Dark Lord and the war, that is. I feel like with our standpoints, we could both learn a lot from each other."

Harry sat back, stunned. "Malfoy, I…"

"No, Potter. Listen to me. We're both in very sensitive positions at the moment. With the rising of the Dark Lord, I'll be able to collect information from the inside from my father - undetected, of course. In return, you'll give me any developments about your side and what they know. We'll be able to compare and share knowledge. This way I can be informed of what my father doesn't tell me and won't be blindsided by the Dark Lord."

"But…" Harry trailed off, not knowing how to phrase it correctly. He decided to say it anyways, realising if they might do this then they'd have to up front with each other as much as possible. "I need to know I can trust you, i hope you understand that. What you're asking of me is immense. If anyone found out I was giving information to you, with your father and-"

"Right, I know. I know it's a lot. But look at me.' Harry flicked his eyes in to Draco's, the cool grey seeping in to his, "If there's one thing I'll ever ask of you, and Merlin knows I don't deserve it one bit, it's your _trust_. You have no reason to, but please trust me when I say this, Potter. I do not intend to join the Dark Lord, or my father if he decides to. My loyalty is to my mother and my name. My father gave his up a long time ago."

"But that doesn't tell me what I need to trust you." Harry protested.

"What will? What do I need to say, or do?" Draco shot back, fists clenched in his lap.

"I need to know what side you're on." Harry said simply. Draco looked away and sighed deeply, opening his palms slightly and looking down at them. 

"I'm not on his side." He mumbled.

"No, Malfoy. I need to hear you say it. That you're on _my_ side. Dumbledore's. The light side." Harry urged.

"I can't make it definite, whose side I'm on, Potter." Malfoy snapped, then immediately softened and continued in a calmer tone, "I will always fight for what you're fighting for, but I still have my mother to think about. She won't leave my father easily, and I won't leave her if he comes back. I need to be there for her, even if it means living on their side."

"So what does this mean?" Harry hissed, not understanding. Malfoy drew his knees up to rest under his chin. It was silent for a few moments.

"I am on your side, but I can't afford to act like it. From now on, I'll be acting as I normally would. My father would only trust me more if I showed interest in all that Dark Lord bullshit. But make no mistake that I'm on _your_ side. That means what you fight for, I'll fight for. It's all just…a bit grey at the moment."

"A bit grey…" Harry repeated, the weight of Malfoy's words dawning on him. He finally began to understand what Malfoy meant, the parts about his mother. It was extremely risky, what he was proposing, double siding Voldemort and his supporters, as well as his own father. Slowly, Harry nodded, drawing a relieved sigh from the other boy. 

"I still need something more tangible, though. To make sure we both honour the agreement." Harry said.

"Like what?" Malfoy asked irritably.

"I don't bloody know. Aren't you the Pureblood? Magic something up for us!" Harry said, waving his hand around.

"Oh, right. Well, I might have to go to the library and research then." Draco started, reminding Harry fondly of Hermione when she was on a roll about something. He remembered his friends with a pang of guilt, realising he had bailed on them after dinner and never went back. They must all be asleep, Harry thinks, checking his watch. 

"What about at school?" Harry said, interrupting Draco's muttering's about disorganised library sections.

"What do you mean? We're at school."

"Urgh, no. I mean during classes and stuff, you and me. And what about my friends? Ron and Hermione are bound to realise something's up."

Draco nodded thoughtfully, "Yeah, Pansy and Blaise already know a bit about us."

"They do?" Harry said, slightly horrified. "And who is Blaise?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "My partner in Potions? Tall, fairly handsome, has gold earrings in for some reason…"

"Ahh, I got it." Harry said, remembering the striking boy always sitting next to Draco during meals. 

"You didn't tell your friends? I'm surprised since you're all conjoined at the hip." Draco said admonishingly. Seeing Harry's expression, he continued, "Right, well. It's best we keep this a secret for now. Pansy and Blaise won't tell anyone, but from now on it stays between us, yeah?"

Harry nodded and Draco continued, "I don't know about Granger and Weasley. When you decide if you want to tell them, let me know. Merlin knows how they'll react, though..." Harry nodded again, feeling useless in the logistics of the whole situation.

"Well we don't have to decide now, of course. I'm not even sure if Voldemort will be back. It could be years before even a possibility."

But Draco shook his head, "No, I have a feeling it'll be soon. My father's been having guests at home - shady tossers - over the summer. I think they were all also ex-Death Eaters that never got convicted like my father. They've been having meetings at the Manor, but of course, I was never involved and told to lock myself up in my room." He said bitterly. "And remember the World Cup? The Dark Mark in the sky once again isn't a good sign. If his followers are banding together again they must have plans for the Dark Lord's comeback."

Harry felt startled by the amount of information Malfoy was just giving him, which proved how invested the boy was in their…partnership. 

"Okay," Harry said, "So if you were to give an estimate, how much time do we have?"

Malfoy muttered to himself for a moment, counting something on his fingers. "I'd say we have around two to three years before he's back full-swing. But it could be more, could be less" Harry didn't bother to ask what he could possibly be so quantitative about the revival of Voldemort that allowed the boy to calculate the figure.

"Shit." Harry whispered, "We don't have much time, then." And let the words sink in for a moment. Suddenly something occurred to Harry, "Oh!" He gasped, causing Malfoy to jump up and scowl at Harry. "My bloody scar!" Harry said, slapping his forehead.

"You tell it, Potter. But what's it got to do with…"

"It hurts!" Harry exclaimed like it was plain obvious. 

"Uh…Right…Like right now?" Malfoy asked slowly, as if speaking to a child. Harry ignored to snark for the time being, tracing the outline of his scar absentmindedly.

"No, you tosser. My scar's been hurting lately. And I get these strange dreams…" Harry explained the dreams he had been having over the summer at the Dursley's, as well as how his scar would flare up whenever Voldemort was near. It felt strange telling Malfoy all at once when he could barely even tell Ron and Hermione a few months ago. He knew Malfoy wouldn't tell him to go see Dumbledore or anything else just as useless like Hermione might have forced him to. He really loved his friends, but sometimes they didn't understand and got riled up over the drop of a pen on Harry's part. It was well-intended sentiment, but Harry didn't need that when he told them, he needed _action_. 

Malfoy listened to Harry with such focus and vigor that Harry didn't need to wonder how he was second in the year to Hermione in terms of grades. Malfoy sat completely still as Harry spoke, the only movement being his grey eyes as they tracked Harry's hands whenever he used them to explain something. They flicked intelligently between Harry's scar, his eyes and his hands occasionally, taking in whatever Harry said with critical analysis in his eyes. Harry could tell the boy was thinking at the same time as listening, letting the information add to whatever sequences of thought he had in his mind. It was similar to the one Hermione had whenever they were in danger over the last three years. It felt unnerving to see it on Malfoy of all people, although he shouldn't have expected it on anyone else. 

_Since when am I giving Malfoy compliments?_ Harry though tiredly. He almost groaned at himself out loud. _One year. I want just one bloody year where nothing weird happens._

"Potter, are you bloody listening?" He heard Malfoy snap, bringing himself out of that particularly scary train of thought. Harry smiled sheepishly and gestured for Malfoy to continue.

"Right, well I was _saying_ ," He started, and Harry almost smiled because it sounded so similar to someone he knew, "There's obviously a connection between you and the Dark Lord. Mainly to do with your scar. I guess killing him backfired; now he's stuck in your bloody head."

"Ha ha." Harry said humourlessly, "But I already knew that."

"Yes, well it could be either beneficial or extremely dangerous. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, though. The bugger's not even alive yet."

Harry scowled, "He's alive, just not…strong. In the dream there was barely any… _body_ while he was talking. It could have been a baby if I didn't know better."

"Right. We can expect some sort of dark magic to make him stronger. For now, what that ritual is, who's in charge of it and when it's going to happen is unknown. I don't think my father's involved, so it will be difficult to know for sure."

"It could be Wormtail." Harry said, having mentioned him earlier. Malfoy nodded, deep in thought again. Seeing Harry's yawn, he checked his watch and gasped.

"Merlin, we've been here a while." He said, astonished. Harry checked his watch too, and saw they were in the early hours of the morning. He cursed himself. It was a _Tuesday_ , and he had double Divination in a few hours. Harry groaned. At least he didn't have Potions.

"Can't we just skip? The sun's practically already up!" Harry whined, fatigue hitting him all at once.

"That's what the sun _does_ , Potter. And I'm not missing any classes lest I want Snape to come after me." Malfoy said, and rubbed his face very un-Malfoy-ishly. "Double Arithmancy it is, then" He got up and held a hand to Harry. Harry gratefully took it, suppressing the absurdity of it all and pulling himself up. He let go of Malfoy's hand with a nod of thanks and they started towards the Entrance. When they reached the doors, Malfoy turned his head behind him slightly and did a double take.

"Potter, look." He grabbed Harry's arm to spin him around. With a rush of adrenaline, he did, expecting some form of danger - or even worse, Filch and his cat. Instead, he found himself looking at the horizon spanning the Great Lake. If he had turned back around again, he would have been able to believe it was still nightfall, but the gentle gradient of colour from navy blue to purple to red was breath-taking as the first dredges of dawn broke. The sun was still pale, and Harry could look at it properly without squinting. 

"This is…" Harry trailed off.

"Weird?" Malfoy looked surreal, like he couldn't believe he was there.

"It's nice." Harry said softly. And it was. 

"Malfoy?" He said after another moment, looking to the boy who was fixated on the horizon. His ivory skin and platinum hair seemed to absorb the spectrum hues the sunrise brought. The lighting was extremely flattering, and Harry almost felt jealous that someone could look so good with so little sleep.

"Mhm?" The boy said, not quite present and transfixed on the sunrise. 

"If we're going to do this, there's one thing you can start doing right now to help."

Malfoy looked at him quickly with a hint of worry. "What is it?" He asked. Harry smiled a bit, immediately spelling the worry from the boy's eyes.

"Stop calling Voldemort the Dark Lord." Harry said bluntly. Malfoy's eyes widened a bit, his grey eyes completely black.

"Oh. Alright then." He saw the boy flush and cross his arms over himself, and Harry could tell he caught him off guard. "I won't."

The sun rose higher and they both turned back inside, dew moistening Harry's glasses slightly.

"See you later?" Harry said, stretching his arms over his head with a big yawn. Malfoy echoed him, although he looked far more graceful doing it.

"First one to fall asleep in class has to bring something to eat next time." Malfoy said, and Harry remembered he didn't see the boy at dinner. _Next time._ Was that really happening? Malfoy was probably extremely sleep deprived, although Harry found himself quite fond of that little spot by the Lake. Hopefully Malfoy would bugger off and he could have it to himself. They reached the staircase where they'd split to go to their dorms, and without a word separated. Harry trudged all the way up to Gryffindor Tower, cursing the amount of stairs he had to climb. 

He snuck in through the portrait, the Fat Lady giving him a suspicious once over but surprisingly not commenting. He practically crawled in to his dorm, envying the hushed snores of everyone in the room. Collapsing in to bed, he pulled out his wand to set on the side table with his glasses, but stopped once he saw something else come with it. 

Merlin's fucking underpants. Harry groaned and threw an arm over him eyes. He'd forgotten to give Malfoy his wand back. Bugger him. He tucked it under his pillow and closed his eyes, vowing to savour every drop of sleep he ever had from then on.

And for the first time in months, Harry fell asleep without the thought of the Triwizard Tournament on his mind. The last thought he had before dropping off was to give Malfoy his wand back somehow before first period, which must have been around three hours away. 

He sighed, and finally fell asleep.

-o-o-

"Harrrry? Mate, wake up. Breakfast ends soon." Ron's voice clamored in his brain through a dreamless sleep. 

_Ron? What's he on about…Breakfast…But I just went to sleep…_

"Harry, why did you sleep in your uniform?"

_Oh shit._

Harry's eyes flew open, seeing Ron's ginger head hovering above him, looking concerned. Shit. He'd fallen asleep without changing his clothes. Bloody Malfoy. _Fuck_. Malfoy's wand. He needed to return it soon.

"Er, Morning Ron." 

"Yeah. Uniform? You left us after dinner and I fell asleep before you came back. Did you sleep at all? You look bloody awful." Then a look of horror spread across his features, "Mate…It's not…" He leaned in over Harry some more, making him slightly uncomfortable and whispered, " _You-know-who, is it?_ "

Harry sighed internally, but was thankful Ron wasn't suspicious about where he'd been. He made a mental note to take his Invisibility Cloak next time. 

"No, Ron. I'm fine. I'm just having trouble with this clue is all."

Ron leant back thankfully, "Oh, well that's alright then. You do know that if your scar starts hurting again you can tell me or Hermione-"

"I know, Ron. I was just too tired to be bothered to change. I'll meet you down at the Hall?"

Ron nodded and left, glancing at Harry over his shoulder once before he passed through the door. The dorm was empty except for Neville whom was desperately searching through his trunk for something. Not wanting to be pulled in to helping him find whatever it was the boy had lost, Harry quickly picked up his spare uniform and robes and went in to the showers. 

He showered quickly, urged by the thought of Malfoy's wand underneath his pillow. Anxiety fled through his veins at the thought that someone might life up his pillow by some odd chance of fate and see the wand. How on earth would he explain that?

Barely buttoning up his shirt entirely, he threw on his robes and left for the Hall, the feeling of an extra wand in his pocket seeming to burn through to his skin. His eyes felt heavy and he may have been a little less than coordinated, but at least he was bloody awake. As for keeping that up for the rest of the day, Harry didn't mind bothering to take some snacks next time he and Malfoy met.

Sodding Malfoy.


	11. Bloody Gryffindors. Bloody Hufflepuffs.

Draco woke up to the sounds of Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott having a raucous shouting match right by his bed, because where on earth would they have it otherwise? 

"I know you took it, Blaise!" He heard an annoying voice yell. Definitely Nott. Draco kept his eyes closed in the hopes that either of them would kill the other or _kindly fuck off somewhere else._

"I didn't take shit! I have absolutely _no_ benefit of taking it! Did you hit your fucking head falling for the girl?" Blaise's honeyed drawl shot back. 

"The clip was on my bedside drawer! The one that's also next to _your_ bed! Who else would have taken it?"

"Oh for fucks sake! I don't even know why I'm _tolerating_ this!" Draco felt a stab of pity for Nott. Blaise never usually raised his voice, but right then he knew things were only going to go downhill for Nott. He kept his eyes closed and surreptitiously tried to reach for his wand on his desk, but…

_Oh shit._

His eyes flew open to see two very angry Slytherins standing not far off the foot of his bed. Nott, poor soul, was now practically _cowering_ under Blaise's glare.

"Look at yourself, Nott! You bleeding, blithering idiot!" 

Draco winced at the sheer vehemence in Blaise's tone, but didn't feel too bad for Nott because everyone in Slytherin knew about Blaise's infamous temper. It wasn't that the boy was particularly dangerous when he got angry, but once you pushed him far enough, you'd almost wish you were _dead_. In fact, majority of the times, Blaise never got physical in a fight. He'd instead tear you down and defile you to your smallest form with sheer _words_. Draco had been on the receiving end of Blaise's verbal assaults _once_ and he still had insecurities from it. The boy had the amazing knack for being able to make you feel less than two inches tall.

"Should I conjure you a mirror? Because I need you to see how stupid you look, clear as day in front of you, just like I do!" Blaise yelled at a now withering Theodore. Draco sat up smugly, temporarily forgetting about his wand and internally relieved it wasn't him being absolutely _murdered_ right then. 

"I have the right mind to drag your arse up to the Astronomy Tower to Trelawney _herself_ just for her to pull the Fool Tarot card for you! What in Merlin, Morgana and Circe's fucking _name_ , is wrong with you? It's a clip! A fucking clip! Get the fuck over it!"

Nott, ever the fool, seemed to have convinced himself he had a fighting chance and squared his shoulder unconvincingly at Blaise, " _Parvati_ gave me that clip from the top of her very own head! I wouldn't expect _you_ to understand such a gesture, Zabini." 

Draco commended the boy for at least managing not to take a jab at Blaise's mother, whom was unfortunately in the throes of seducing another husband (her sixth? Draco had stopped counting) as informed by an apathetic Blaise. Merlin knew if Nott _had_ mentioned something, even Draco feared for his own life. 

"Oh _please_. You've known her how many days, Nott?" 

And Nott withered in to himself once again as Blaise paused expectantly.

"Come on! Count on your fingers right now!"

Nott lifted a shaky hand and begun to count as Blaise tauntingly encouraged him.

"T..Ten?" Nott stammered, looking wearily at Blaise.

"That's right! Ten days! Now get your hollow skull out your fucking arse. I didn't take that fucking clip, so stop bothering me about it! This is why nobody in Slytherin wants to date you! I heard the Sorting Hat made one mistake in it's life and that was placing you here instead of in Hufflepuff." Blaise spat vemenously. "Now kindly don't speak to me again until you regain even a _modicum_ of common sense." And with that Blaise stomped out the dormitory, brushing past Nott whom flinched slightly as their shoulders brushed. His eyes followed Blaise out the room then finally found Draco, who was leaning on one elbow and lounging laboriously as he regarded him with a ' _You should have known better_ ' look. Nott stepped back nervously and stalked out of the dorm without a word as well. Good to know Blaise's impeccably short temper had an effect on Draco's reputation as well. Whether that was a good thing or not, Draco didn't bother to ponder about. 

Draco stretched out his muscles, which were tight with fatigue. A few hours of sleep was bound to show up his face, and he still had to chase after his wand. Gathering up his clothes, he checked his watch and quickly went to shower, hoping to catch Potter before class so he could get his _bloody wand back_. Trust Potter to forget to give it back at all. It was all his _fault_.

Draco showered hurriedly in utter fear of all the things Potter might do to damage his wand. _Merlin_ , he even might start throwing it in the air again. The horror of it vanished Draco's grogginess for the time being, instead fueling him with panic. Draco vowed that if he even found a _scratch_ on his wand, he'll hex Potter with his own tenfold. 

Hastily throwing his satchel over his shoulder, Draco reluctantly left his dorm feeling empty and vulnerable without his wand. He couldn't shake the odd feeling of having left something behind, and only the thought of breakfast and his wand back kept him going all the way to the Great Hall, fatigue and hunger from the all-nighter finally catching up with him.

He entered the Hall with a flurry of other students, making a beeline for Pansy and a brooding Blaise. Draco hoped he'd calmed down already, he felt to wound up to deal with the boy's wounded temper at the moment. 

"Morning, Draco." Pansy said as he slid in between them, holding a cup of tea in one hand and the _Daily Prophet_ in the other. He nodded and absently picked up a croissant and bit in to it, barely tasting it. Blaise, luckily, seemed busily involved in simmering in the aftermaths of his outburst and didn't take notice of Draco's attempts to move his head around in search of Potter at the Gryffindor table. Of course, the table was all the way at the other end of the hall, but that never stopped Draco before.

All too easily, he found Potter and his two parasitical companions. He bit in to his croissant again and tried to catch Potter's eye. Merlin, why wasn't the boy bloody _looking_. All he seemed to be doing was looking down, shoulders hunched, as he listened to Granger speak and the Weasel look on pityingly. 

"Draco, darling, subtlety never was your strong suit." Pansy said, sipping her tea. "Do stop staring a hole in to dear Potty's head. I'm afraid you'll find there's nothing of worth inside."

"What-" But Draco just sighed, "Never mind. I'm not staring."

"Right, and I'm a descendant of Merlin himself. Live in this denial for another few years. See if I care."

Draco made a show of reaching through her personal space to grab a butter dish, taking his eyes off Potter for the time being seeing as the boy was preoccupied with Granger's incessant yapping. He took his time spreading the butter over the croissant, and noticed Blaise looking considerably calmed down looking at him.

"Draco, you look like shit." Blaise muttered, leaning in. Draco weighed his options on how to reply, not wanting to possibly anger the boy again. He hadn't quite planned an excuse for why he might have looked marginally sub-par in appearance than usual. Of course, he wouldn't have needed to if he had his wand to cast at least a few glamour charms on himself. He just shrugged and acted like the butter on his croissant required the utmost precision. 

Just then, he saw Potter slam his hands on his table and rise up, leaving Granger and Weasley behind in a huff. Draco's heart sped. This was his chance. Dropping his croissant, he pretended to look through his book bag and not find something, tracking Potter walk out the Hall through his eyelashes. When the boy disappeared, Draco got up, muttering an irritated "Forgot my…" and started to walk out as well. Whether he felt two pairs of eyes on him as he left, he didn't bother to think about.

Once he passed through the doors, he quickened his pace in to a light scurry and followed a swish of robes that had disappeared around a corner. He followed after the boy, panting slightly and wondering when he started running after people, never mind after Harry bloody Potter. 

"Potter!" Draco called out to the retreating figure. Potter turned around quickly, and Draco noticed he was flushed and his eyes were terribly bloodshot. He could see the first few buttons of his shirt under his robes weren't even buttoned properly. Potter saw Draco and scowled, but it disappeared as he approached. Draco stopped in front of him, hands on his knees and catching his breath.

"I took your wand." Potter said. Draco would have laughed or even glared if he wasn't trying to breathe properly.

"I know. Can I have it back?" He panted. He didn't even know why he was asking, it was his own wand anyway. It was just something about the look on Potter's face that made him hesitate. Potter fished through his pockets and brought out two wands, giving Draco his one and pocketing the other. 

"Thanks. I didn't even realise till this morning - or at least I mean later this morning." He said with a laugh, trying to gauge what was wrong with the boy in front of him. Potter didn't even seem to be looking at him, instead alternating between the floor, walls and Draco's feet. He looked worse for wear, regardless of the lack of sleep evident on his face.

"Potter, are you alright?" Potter's eyes finally flicked to his, the green irises and red whites making him look feral and so unlike the usual person he saw. Draco felt the urge to ask what was wrong one more time when Potter smiled weakly and shook his head.

"I'm alright." He said, sticking his hands in his robe pockets, "Just tired. Didn't sleep." 

Draco nodded, not believing a word the boy said but decided not to push it. "Well, alright then." He said, but then heard a rush of voices coming from behind him as students began to flow out the Hall to all their classes. He looked at Potter, whom was looking back at Draco worriedly. Draco shot him a quick pitying look with his eyes and brushed past him, making sure to shove Potter's shoulder as he passed.

"Watch it, Scarhead." He spat, almost wincing when he remembered Potter telling him how his scar hurt sometimes, "Not everyone has to move aside in the halls for the Chosen One." He successfully garnered a few looks from people around him. He fought the urge to look back at Potter as he walked away, but heard a weak, "Fuck you, Malfoy." just before he turned the corner. Draco felt a stab of worry at the lack of conviction or strength in the boy's tone. It was a pathetic response, and Draco wondered for a moment if Weasley and Granger had something to do with it. 

He walked all the way to Arithmancy with his mask of indifference, glad he didn't share the class with either Blaise or Pansy. He wasn't in the mood for either his friends pestering or Professor Vector's droning about Rune calculations, and was quite hoping to try and subtly take a nap at the back of the class. He pushed down his uneasiness from the encounter with Potter and settled for the comfort for having his wand back. 

-o-o-

When classes ended that day, Draco went straight to his dormitory and fell asleep for about three hours, uniform and all. His friends luckily didn't notice much was wrong, or didn't bother to find out, which was just as well to Draco. One of the good things about being at Hogwarts was being away from the over-nurturing of his mother. He knew she meant well and he loved her for it, but the woman hung over him like a shadow over every little thing. She alone was the reason why Draco had scarless pale skin all the way from his childhood. He was pretty sure she used to punish the house elves if he came back from playing with even the smallest scratch. Now he'd rather just be left alone. He didn't care much about scars, on or not on his body. 

He woke up just in time to finish some homework while alone in his dormitory, then went off to dinner feeling marginally better for the first time that entire day. He patted himself on the back for only falling asleep for twenty minutes in Arithmancy and about thirty seconds in Charms. A thoroughly job well done not killing anyone throughout the day, all things considered. 

He ate dinner eagerly, having found his appetite after his nap. He ignored Pansy scandalised expressions for every serving he took, as if three was all _that_ much. He didn't see Potter the whole day except that morning, and the boy wasn't at dinner either. His friends were, though, and Draco wondered if his assumption from before was correct.

Unfortunately, he didn't have much time to think about Potter and his amazing mood wings, because as soon as dinner ended, he found himself falling in to bed the earliest he's ever gone since he was a child. Within almost moments he was already falling asleep, although a glance at his watch on his bedside table before he fell told him it was far too early to do so. He dreamt vaguely of seeing the moon outside his dormitory window - despite being underneath the lake - and the green windows of the Common Room casting shadows of a sinister shape all over his bed covers, filling his head with lead sleep. 

It was fitful, and it's fevered dreams meanings were lost to him almost as instantly as they came.

-o-o-

What felt like moments after his strange dream ended did he startle awake. His eyes popped open to the familiar green water outside his windows. Knowing that looking out any of the windows in the Slytherin dorms gave no indication of the time of day, he turned over to his watch and saw that it was too outrageously early to be up on a Wednesday. It seemed that nap he took the day before as well as the early night was catching up to him, and he had hours before class and was totally bloody awake. He was awake at around the same time he and Potter left the Lake the previous day, and Draco decided to get up in hopes he might see the sun rise again.

Pulling on his uniform so he wouldn't have to come back and change, he crept out past his sleeping dorm mates with his bag slung over his shoulder. He left through the Common Room, where he was pretty sure he spooked three different house elves whom were dusting the furniture inside on the way out. One of them looked vaguely familiar somehow, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It didn't matter though, because the elf disapparated with a yelp as soon as it saw Draco. Weird creatures, they were.

He stopped by the Great Hall, which was somehow already full of food despite there being only one teacher and Draco. He grabbed a few croissants and an apple and left again, cradling them in a napkin precariously and begging himself not to drop them. 

The cool morning air greeted him as soon as he stepped outside, and he was pleased to note he wasn't too late to see the sun rise over the Lake like it did the day before. Hobbling over to his and Potter's spot subconsciously, he focused on one croissant in particular that was threatening to slip out of his grasp, and really couldn't have _that_. Wasn't he Slytherin Seeker for a reason?

"Malfoy?" Came a voice in front of him.

"Fuck!" Draco jumped up like a spooked cat. He just managed to keep ahold of his precious goods, but unfortunately the apple went flying towards his attacker. A blur of black hair in front of him and the person caught it out of the air. Draco grimaced. Only one person in the entire school had those reflexes.

"Potter, you _idiot_! Why on earth would you scare me like that?" Draco scolded, holding his croissants possessively to his chest. Potter, the git, flicked his eyes between Draco and the croissants, his mouth twitching at the sides as if he were about to _laugh_.

"Sorry." He said, but he looked more amused than actually apologetic. Imbecile. 

"Don't be an oaf." Draco said sitting down next to Potter. The boy said nothing, throwing the poor apple between his hands absentmindedly. "Give me back my apple. You'll bruise it." He added, holding out his hand. Potter stared at the apple then looked at Draco irritably. He handed Draco the apple with a huff and sat back again in silence.

It was then that Draco realised Potter hadn't been at dinner and he was there currently holding a multitude of croissants to his chest like a child. He sighed and knew he had no choice, wondering when on earth the planets had aligned so Draco would end up sharing food with Harry Potter. The planets were cruel, fickle beings. 

He set the croissants down in the space between them on top of the napkin, spreading them around with the apple in the centre like some sort of weird platter. 

"Here. Have some." Draco said simply. He didn't look at Potter directly, but saw the boy's head whip to his in the corner of his eye. Draco sat back on his hands with a sigh of contentment and let himself soak in the soft hues of the sun. 

"What did you say?" Potter said next to him. It sounded almost accusing, and Draco wondered what on earth he could have said that could have offended the boy. He looked at Potter, who quite honestly looked no better than the day before.

"Uh…I said you could have some. The croissants? Was it offensive?" He explained cautiously, gesturing to the food between them. And to demonstrate they weren't poisoned or otherwise ill-intended, Draco swiped one up and took a bite. Potter just stared at him intensely, his eyes roving over Draco's face like he was trying to figure something out. 

"Potter, it's not complex Arithmancy. Eat something. You just look like shit.'

The boy quirked his head slightly, "Did you bring these for me?" 

Draco threw his head back and laughed. The thought itself was amusing, but not as much as Potter thinking it was possible. 

"Of course not! I came here to eat on my own. Didn't know you'd be here to attack me." Draco said with a smirk. It felt nice for once that he had Potter on the blind side for once.

"So you want to share _your_ food with- wait, I didn't attack you, you tosser-"

"Regardless!" Draco chimed in, "Why on earth are you here?" He pointedly ignored what Potter said, and tactically ignored that he ignored it. 

"I could ask you the same question." The boy said casting a side along look at Draco. 

"Right, well I slept inhumanely early last night and now I'm up. What's your excuse." Draco said, not knowing why he was so open to chat but cocking it up to the nice change of scenery.

Potter just looked back at the sun, elbows wrapped around his drawn up knees. Draco couldn't see his eyes properly from the reflections of the sunlight in his glasses. "I couldn't sleep." The boy said frankly, and Draco wondered if he was still moody from his unconfirmed fight with Weasley and Granger.

"You didn't sleep at all?"

Potter quirked a crooked smile, "I did in class yesterday."

Draco snorted, "When don't you? Be glad there was no Potions. Snape can probably smell mental weakness and you'd have been reeking of more of it than usual."

Potter chuckled and scowled at him seemingly out of habit, then glanced again at the food. He looked at them hungrily but for some reason didn't pick one up.

"Why aren't you eating?" Draco said conversationally, picking up the apple and taking a hearty bite out of it. 

Potter watched him chew for a moment then looked away quickly, "I don't know."

"Then eat, you daft bugger." Draco said, and added cautiously, "And this way you won't have to go all the way to the Hall for breakfast." Potter looked back at him curiously for a second, then back at the food. "Go on. It won't bite unless you do." Draco said a little more softly. He felt a moment of horror when he found he sounded somewhat like his _mother_. Merlin help them all.

"I don't usually get offered food." Potter said, something in his voice sounding tight. He curled his arms around his knees tighter and rested his chin on them. Frustratingly, he still didn't touch the food. Draco had no idea why, or what weird complex the boy had but it prevented him from eating food when, what…someone gave it to him? Regardless of what it was, something hot coiled in his stomach at the thought. Food was something people should always make time for if they could, regardless of whether they were hungry or not. It was one of the things magic couldn't replace so it was incredibly important. It was fuel, and disrespectful to the body by depriving it. 

Or that's what his mother used to tell him. He really should write a letter to her soon.

Draco sighed. He really _was_ becoming his mother. Bringing the napkin of food to him, he took one of the croissants and started to break it in to smaller pieces as Potter watched on curiously. Once satisfied when the whole croissant was in small bits, he pushed the napkin back in to the middle between them.

"There. Just have a few pieces. It's alright with me, really. I'm full from this." He said surely, holding up his apple then taking another bite. He watched Potter nervously stare at him in shock for a few seconds then look at the food again. Thankfully this time, one of his hands unwrapped from around his knees and reached towards the food hesitantly. Draco held his breath as Potter seemed to contemplate the action thoroughly, then breathed it out in relief when the boy reluctantly picked up a small piece of the croissant. Without a word, he turned back to the sun and munched quietly on it, taking small bites as if he was savoring it. 

What on earth was wrong with him? Did he think Draco was going to poison him or something? No, that couldn't have been right when Draco demonstrated against it earlier. 

"Thank you." Potter said quietly next to him, taking another piece. Draco decided to leave it for now, reveling in the irrational feeling of success of having gotten Potter to eat something. Draco finished his apple and vanished the core with his wand. Maybe he needed more sleep. 

"Mind if I ask why you can't sleep?" Draco said, leaning back to lounge on one elbow and pretty much facing Potter completely. Potter finished his piece of the croissant and Draco pushed another towards him. Glaring at Draco, he took it anyway.

"I just have…a lot of stuff going on." Potter said with difficulty. Draco was about to retort that at least he was let off end of year exams until he realised just how much Potter really had on his plate. He had the not-dying in the Triwizard Tournament, the not-dying from the possible Death Eater affiliations with said Tournament, and to top it all the not-dying because of the strongest Dark Wizard coming back to power in the near - or not near - future. Draco bit his tongue ashamedly at what he might have said. As much as he hated to admit it, Potter did have a lot to deal with at the moment. No wonder he was being such a wound-arse all of a sudden. Wasn't the next Task almost a month's away? 

"I take it the egg is being no good?" Draco asked, hoping Potter wouldn't lash out at him like he assumedly did to Granger and the Weasel.

Potter just sighed deeply, bowing his head in between his knees, "No. Not at all." He grumbled. Draco considered it for a moment.

"Why don't you just ask?" Draco said thoughtfully. Potter's head whipped up to look at him.

"We can't have help."

"You can't have help from non-competitors. Why not ask Cedric or something? He's a Hufflepuff. I'm sure he'll spill it." Draco said simply.

"He already did." Potter said. Draco's head whipped to his in turn, making contact with Potter's eyes fully for the first time that morning.

"What? He helped you?"

"He definitely tried. I'm not sure if it's a red-herring it not. He just gave me some obscure request." His eyes looked full of fire and determination despite the defeat in his voice. Draco wondered if it was one of those things that would never go out.

"What did he say? And what's a red-herring?" Draco asked confusedly. Potter chuckled slightly.

"Muggle reference." Draco scrunched up his nose at that. "He just asked me to take a bath with it." Potter said, ignoring Draco. 

"Come again?" Draco gasped.

Potter laughed more strongly this time, "Exactly what I thought. That's why I haven't tried yet. He might just be trying to make a fool of me."

Draco thought about it for a moment, finger's coming up to his temple's instinctively but quickly whipping away before Potter saw.

"I think you should try it." He said. 

"Why?" Potter asked, looking at him curiously again.

"It doesn't sound like something Cedric would do, to be quite honest. He's a Hufflepuff, you know. I would have been more on guard if it was someone from another house-"

"Like you?" Potter asked, eyes slightly alight with humour. Draco scowled at him and turned away.

"Yes, like me." He grumbled, annoyed for some reason.

"Well, at least I have a good place to start, if I did do it." Potter said musingly, obviously setting up some sort of bait that Draco was going to have to take. He ignored the boy in hopes he'd find the silence awkward and continue but it stretched on, and Draco wasn't one for unfilled silences.

"Ugh, fine. What on earth would you mean by that, oh Chosen One?" Draco sneered. It was Potter's turn to scowl, and he crossed his legs and hunched over them, picking stray pieces of grass out of the ground.

"I _mean_ ," Potter said with a quick glare at Draco, "That someone _may_ have given me the password to the Prefects Bathroom for specific Tournament purposes." Potter said smugly, and Draco erupted.

"You're lying!" He gasped, and Potter just shook his head smugly while obviously trying to hold back a laugh, "That's insanely unfair! Bloody Hufflepuff's!" And Potter finally let out a loud laugh at Draco's dismay.

"I'm serious! And _you!_ " He said, pointing a finger at Potter accusingly, "Just your bloody luck!"

Potter put a lid on his snorting and said, "I did help him for the first task, so it's only really fair if you look at it." He smiled lazily, and Draco felt something in him jump that the boy seemed alright again. 

"Of bloody course. Bloody Gryffindors. Bloody Huffelpuffs." Draco grumbled, and Potter laughed again. "But you really should do the egg thing, though. Do what, take a bath?" Potter nodded, "Right. Go crazy with it then. Merlin knows the boy may have been on to something." Draco assured him disgruntledly. 

"Okay. I will then. Not like I have any other ideas." Potter surmised, looking considerably less shitty and stressed than before. 

The sun had now completely emerged and it was becoming almost painful to look at. The brightness made every speck of dust in Potter's glasses glow tenfold and Draco itched to clean them. He clenched his fists and thought about something else. 

"I don't know what planet I woke up on," Potter said next to him, "But for some reason there are some things I can say here that I can't tell my own friends."

Draco stayed silent, slightly taken aback by the statement but wanting the boy to continue.

"It just…all they do is worry about me. I know it comes from a good place, but all they want to do is go to Dumbledore for every little thing. Sometimes I can't even tell them if my scar really _is_ hurting because they'd say the same thing, and I don't _want_ to go to Dumbledore. He's busy as it is, and imagine running to the Headmaster for a little bit of a headache?"

"It'd be annoying. And I can take care of myself that much." Draco said, answering his rhetorical question out loud.

"Exactly! They just don't understand that. It's easy for them to tell me what to do, but they never think about what it'd actually be like for _me_. Ron tells Hermione everything he thinks is wrong with me, and Hermione never bloody realises how much pressure she projects on to people out of habit. Everyday it's 'did you solve the clue' this and 'you need to get ahead on your homework' that. They're both my best friends, but they're so _incredibly_ annoying sometimes." Potter finished, panting slightly. It reminded Draco of the night of the Ball when Potter gave him a similar kind of rant.

"And me?" Draco sked, genuinely interested in what Potter had to say about it. The boy ran a hand through his hair which was in need of another haircut. 

"And you…It's like…there's no expectations, you know? We both don't like each other, so there's nothing to either impress or disappoint. I could say right now that I haven't done my Transfigurations essay due for today, and what would you say?"

"I wouldn't give a shit." Draco said honestly.

"Exactly. It's like I can speak freely here but not with my own friends. How sad is that?"

"Well I wouldn't have anything to say about it. Slytherin, remember? It's sort of an unspoken rule that you don't be so…expressive and emotional." Draco said thoughtfully, "Especially in a Pureblood environment like that. I'm lucky I found good friends like Pansy and Blaise, but it's still tit for tat kinds of relationships. We can tell each other stuff, but doing things for each other is a different story. There's always an extent to where companionship goes. It's all very conditional there."

"And here?" Potter said, resting his head on one hand.

"Well, it's like you said. No expectations, no reputations to uphold. You certainly don't give a shit about that stoicism bullshit, so why should I walk on eggshells?"

"You really walk on eggshells there all the time?"

Draco nodded, "Pretty much. It's just how Slytherin House is, and I never really realised it properly until after the Ball, after what you said. Thanks for that, by the way."

Potter cocked his head to the side and smiled crookedly, "Oh my. Draco Malfoy just thanked me in casual conversation. What have I created?"

"Shut it, wanker. You created a monster that has their wand this time around." Draco said warningly, but Potter just snorted infuriatingly. 

"It might suck, but at least it's the truth. Ignorance is bliss for a bleeding wound. It feels good but it's just going to kill you."

Draco looked at Potter weirdly for a moment, "That was oddly…eloquent. What's wrong with you? Where is Harry Potter and what have you done with him."

Potter yawned widely, "Still there unfortunately. I think I heard Hermione say it once. Or I could have made it up. I get weird when I'm tired."

"Quite." Draco said, watching the boy lay back completely and cushion his head with his arms behind his head. Only a moment of silence passed before Draco realised the boy had closed his eyes and fallen asleep right in front of him. 

"Oh, bugger." Draco muttered, peering at Potter now relaxed and breathing evenly. "Potter?" No answer.

Draco packed up the remaining food and vanished it as well. He sat awkwardly for a few moments, not knowing what to do with himself. Did he leave Potter there or wake him up? Or should he wait for class to start then wake him up then? It seemed odd to wait there while he slept. They had two hours until breakfast was over, and he wasn’t warm to the idea of being in the crowded Hall for some reason. The spot by the Lake really was spoiling him.

_No expectations._

Potter's words ran through his head for a moment. They seemed to make sense, especially when he felt so at ease out there than anywhere else in the school. Who knew it was also with the only person in school that hated him the most?

Sighing at what his life had become, Draco took out his Transfigurations textbook out of his bag and settled in to read, setting a timer until five minutes before their first period with a modified Tempus charm. 

"Sleep well, Potty." Draco muttered absently as he thumbed through his book for the right page. Potter said nothing back.

"You really are terrible company." Draco said again, and was unsurprisingly met with still silence.


	12. Here comes Lolligo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing ahead lately and wanted to be legit and post chapters once a week, but i'm incredibly impatient!!! Here's another chapter and another may be coming soon because i have no self control.

The first thing Harry felt when he woke up was a familiar blunt pressure on his nose, which meant he had fallen asleep with his glasses on again. Bugger that. But why did his bed feel so…soft and stiff at the same time. It was almost as if he was on the…

He smelt the scent of soft earth and heard a rustling of paper next to him. 

Right. He _was_ on the ground. Real outside ground, in fact. Opening his eyes slightly had an onslaught of sunlight violating them. He groaned out loud, turning over and grimacing at his stiff back. Another paper rustled next to him and he wondered if he'd left his books out. He could imagine it clearly, all his essays and notes tumbling away in the wind. He almost didn't want to open his eyes. Maybe for a while longer…

"Ah, you're awake. Finally." A voice drawled next to him. Not just any drawl. Harry squinted at the figure next to him. He was sitting down with a book open on his lap not far away. That explained the paper sounds. He didn't know if it was better than just being his own books flying away to Malfoy sat primly next to him.

"You slept like the dead, Potter." Malfoy said, looking at him with amusement. Harry sat up, rubbing the back of his head and yawning the sleep out of his system. The sun was much higher now, and the warmth was almost stifling directly under it's gaze. Harry irritably noted that Malfoy didn't even look like he was _sweating_. Bloody prat.

"How long was I…" Harry started, but was interrupted by another yawn.

"Two hours and…" Malfoy checked his watch. "Forty-five minutes. It's impressive, really."

"Felt impressive. I feel way better." Harry stretched his arms up and laid back down. "Wish I could stay here all day."

"Yeah." He heard Malfoy say, then heard the sharp closing of a book and a bag rustling. "We better go now, though. Class is in fifteen minutes. I'll leave first?"

Harry closed his eyes and let the sun rays seep in to him seemingly all the way to the bone. He felt remarkably more well rested than he had for the last few days. It wasn't enough sleep as he should have had, but it was better than nothing for the moment. 

"You waited for me?" Harry asked Malfoy's retreating figure. He didn't open his eyes to check, but rather heard the boy's footsteps halt. He stayed silent for heartbeat or two. 

"Not at all. It was just convenient for me to stay where I was." His voice sounded misdirected, as if he hadn't turned around to face Harry. 

Harry nodded even though Malfoy wouldn't have been able to see it. It was more to himself than anything. 

"Alright then. See you around." He replied, trying to keep the anxious thoughts at bay and just enjoy the cool ground beneath him and the seeping warmth in his blood from the sun. Malfoy's footsteps resumed and faded away.

"Bloody weirdo." Harry thought aloud. The willow tree above him rustled in agreement. 

-o-o-

When classes had ended that day, Harry spent some time in the Common Room with Ron and Hermione promptly trying to ignore their questioning looks and thoroughly avoid their questions in general. Unfortunately, it was Hermione who cornered him first.

"So, Harry, where were you this morning?" Ron was sitting next to Hermione in his usual 'I'm on her side' stance.

Harry tried to act naturally but knew he was failing. He plastered a hopefully genuine smile on his face.

"Me? What do you mean, Hermione?" 

_Damnit! Too genuine!_

"I mean where were you at breakfast? Ron said he also didn't see you in your bed this morning. Harry if there's anything you need you can talk to us-" Anxiety spiked in Harry immediately. He hadn't realised how much energy he'd spent trying to avoid the topic at all.

"Bloody hell, I know, Hermione!" Harry shouted before he could stop himself, cutting her off and immediately regretting it but unable to control his irritation. It was all the same bloody things she'd been telling him at breakfast the day before when he'd stormed out. It was taking every bit of restraint not to do the same right then. A few people around them look at the three, and Harry withered a bit.

Sighing and taking off his glasses, he said, "I'm sorry. I'm just…I don't need that right now. Could you please just…not do that?" He rubbed his eyes tiredly, fatigue catching up with him.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other for a moment, looking as if they were having a secret conversation with their eyes. Hermione laid a hand on Harry's knee, which took all of him not to pull away from.

"It's alright, Harry. We get that you're stressed out. It must be difficult."

Harry smiled weakly at them, wanting to tell them not to worry and that it wasn't difficult. That he really was alright. He wished he had the energy to talk to them normally again or have a game of chess with Ron. 

"Thank you." He said, "I hate this tournament." He laughed mirthlessly, shoulders shaking over his drawn up knees. He felt a pat on his back - Hermione again, probably. He inched away just a bit, playing it off as picking up his bag from the ground.

"I'm going to go to bed." He said simply. Ron and Hermione nodded and Harry felt both of their gazes on him as he walked to his dormitory. Ron's sympathetic and Hermione's calculating. 

As he changed out of his uniform, he caught sight of the dreaded egg on his bedside table and studied it as if it might bite him. 

"I hate you." He told the egg. 

The egg, coward that it was, said nothing.

_That's right, Harry. You tell it!_ A pathetic voice in his head cheered on. He promptly ignored it and vowed to do so as long as it existed. Was this sleep deprivation? He really should go to sleep on time for once.

On that note, Harry grabbed the egg, his shower kit and the Invisibility Cloak and left the room. He came back a moment later, took out the Marauders Map out of his trunk, and left for real. 

Throwing the Cloak over himself, he crept past Ron and Hermione discussing something in the Common Room and slipped through the Portrait when it flew open for somebody else. He crossed through the corridors with the aid of the Map, all the way to the third floor and up to the entrance to the Prefects bathrooms. 

" _Pine fresh._ " Harry whispered, and he went in to put Cedric's advice to the test. 

-o-o-

The next morning, Harry woke up with several thoughts and questions flying around his head. 

_I need to tell Malfoy._ Was the first thing he thought, unfortunately, and as much as he hated it he knew it was his best bet in hopefully making it make sense. Why had Barty Crouch been in Snape's office? Harry would have thought he had hallucinated it from seeing Snape after hours if Moody hadn't taken his map. 

He spent Breakfast giving Ron and Hermione a brief synopsis of what had happened the night before, and regretted it for the ten minutes in which Hermione scolded him for going out at night alone. She wasn't as vicious as she could have been, though, because he brought the poem that came from the egg with him. 

_"Come seek us where our voices sound,  
We cannot sing above the ground,  
And while you're searching ponder this;  
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,  
An hour long you'll have to look,  
And to recover what we took,  
But past an hour, the prospect's black,  
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."_

"That sounds barmy, not going to lie." Ron stated. Hermione smacked him on the arm and they continued through theories.

-o-o-

After dinner that day, Harry made his way to the Lake in case he might catch Malfoy there. He made his way under the willow tree and saw that he was in luck. 

"Malfoy." Harry said, sitting down as the boy looked up from his work. "Homework?"

"Some people actually study, Potter." Malfoy said, making a note on his parchment and looking back at his textbook. Harry wondered for a moment if Hermione might ever get along with the boy based on how much they valued their studies so bloody much. He swiped the thought away quickly. When pigs flew, maybe.

Malfoy dropped his quill and rustled with something on the side Harry couldn't see. A moment later, he brought up a napkin and placed it between them without a word. On it, were some pastries and the same single apple similar to last time. Harry watched Malfoy continue his work as if nothing much had just occurred, trying to gauge any sort of indication of what the other boy was thinking. 

Harry looked down at the food for a moment, and saw some of it was already in small pieces. Seeing as it was presented just like last time, he let himself pick one up and start to eat. Malfoy didn't react when he did.

"You look disgustingly pleased with yourself." Malfoy remarked after a moment, glancing sidelong at Harry. Harry couldn't help the crooked smile that crossed his face.

"I cracked the egg." He said proudly. Malfoy's eyebrows raised and the corners of his mouth twitched. He looked down at his parchment and continued writing.

"Well, get on with it. I can tell you're bursting to tell me what it was."

And Harry begun to excitedly explain the egg starting to sing underneath the water, how it was probably the voices of merpeople underneath the Lake and reciting what it had said.

" 'We cannot sing above the ground' is quite obvious. I agree that it's probably merpeople." Draco confirmed after Harry finished, "And there are merpeople in the Lake. They sometimes show up on the first few days of school to spook the First Years in the Common Room. Sadistic buggers, the lot of them."

Harry bit down the urge to ask Malfoy about his first encounter with the merpeople and let the boy continue.

"But 'We've taken what you'll sorely miss'? That could be anything." He trailed off for a moment, tapping his quill on his parchment. "Maybe your wands? Maybe they'll disarm you. Or maybe it's a metaphor, like taking your breath away?"

Harry let Malfoy prattle on about all the possible double meanings of the clue, wishing he was Hermione so he could actually counter the boy's suggestions.

"Right. They'll obviously take something from you. What that is, we have no idea, but that doesn't matter for the moment. You'll have an hour to retrieve it, or…What was that last bit?"

"Too late, it's gone, it won't come back." Harry said, reciting the last line of the clue.

"Right. Well that's rather morbid." Malfoy remarked, "But what we have to focus on is how you're going to survive underwater for an hour."

Harry's face fell. He hadn't thought of that. 

"Have you started researching?"

Harry shook his head and Malfoy picked up the apple between them and chucked it at him.

"Ow! What the hell?" Harry yelped, but caught the apple before it reached the ground.

"You need to get started, Harry! You have around a month, you fool! How you've survived this long is beyond me!"

Irritation spiked in Harry's chest, "I know, alright? Lay off! I get enough of this shit from Hermione."

Draco's face softened at that, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I know. I'm…sorry. But you can't become complacent, okay? Not many wizards have figured out how to spend copious amounts of time underwater. It won't be easy. Why they'd make _children_ go through this, I have no idea."

Harry's irritation died quickly after that. He accredited it to the shock of Malfoy apologising to him so easily. It had been around two weeks since their truce started and he didn't think he could get used to it.

"I know. I'll be living with Hermione in the library from now on." Harry said, picking up a piece of pastry and putting it in to his mouth.

"Good. Merlin knows you'll actually have a chance with her around to help you." Harry bristled at Malfoy's tone because it was so often used to antagonise him and his friends, but now it was almost like…he was complimenting Hemione. 

He smiled slyly at Malfoy, "Oh yeah?"

Malfoy caught his look and glared, "One word of this outside this conversation and I'll set Lolligo on you."

Harry frowned for a moment, unable to remember any bloke called something obnoxious like Lolligo in Slytherin. 

Seeing Harry's expression, Malfoy rolled his eyes and said, "Lolligo is the Giant Squid, Potter."

Harry can't help his mouth from falling open, "The squid has a name?"

"No, you dolt, I-" And Malfoy stopped himself immediately, a slight flush creeping over his face. At once, it dawned on Harry. 

"Oh my god…" He gasped, "You named the Giant Squid… _Lolligo_?" He couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of him at Malfoy's sour expression.

"Laugh all you want, Potter." Malfoy crossed his arms haughtily at Harrys laughs, chin up in the air, "We'll see who's laughing when _Lolligo_ tears you in two like a chicken bone."

But that only made Harry laugh harder. After a moment, Malfoy's scowl broke and he just _almost_ smiles. 

"You're barmy, Malfoy." Harry makes out through wheezes. "Completely fucking insane." And Malfoy just shook his head and rolled his eyes back to his work, continuing to scratch on to the parchment with a small ghost of a smile still on his lips.

Harry caught his breath and laid down the same way he did the day before when he had fallen asleep. He closed his eyes but didn't let himself fall in to oblivion, instead letting the cool night's breeze sift through his hair on the ground.

"You better not be bloody asleep again, Potter."

Harry opened an eye and regarded Malfoy coolly, "Don't worry. I'm not."

"You'd better. I don't have time to child mind over your little naps. Go back to Gryffindor and sleep."

Harry stretched languorously and rolled to Malfoy's side with an elbow propping up his head, "I don't wanna go up there." He rolled back on to his back. "I like it out here."

"Ah yes. Here amongst the dirt and overhanging threat of Lolligo the squid. Charming."

"You like it too." Harry said, the moonlight making the darkness beneath his closed eyes a dull grey colour.

"No, I don't."

Harry just laughed at the blatant lie, but didn't say anything more about the subject. He knew Malfoy liked the spot as much as he did. He wouldn't have been out there studying if he didn't.

"It just helps me think." Malfoy added.

_He likes it._

-o-o-

After sitting in silence for a while and succumbing to the feeling of just existing, reality caught up with Harry and his eyes flew open.

"Oh! I forgot to tell you!"

Malfoy jumped and smeared ink over the end of the sentence he'd been writing. His fingers curled dangerously over his quill and he turned his head to glare lethally at Harry.

"Oh. Erm…Sorry, Draco."

The boy's death grip didn't let up but he turned back to his work with a deeply sought out sigh. 

"Talk."

"It's about Barty Crouch."

Draco dropped his quill and put his parchment and books to the side.

"Bartemius?" He asked, his face suddenly curious and interested.

"Er…Yeah. Barty." And Harry proceeded to tell him about seeing Crouch in Snape's office on the Map.

"Did you say Map?" Draco interrupted midway. Harry considered telling him for a moment, and realised that it wouldn't have been the worst thing he's told Malfoy. In for a Knut, in for a Galleon. 

"It's basically this map that let's me see everyone at Hogwarts and where they are - I'll show you later when I get it back. But for some reason that night, I saw the name Barty Crouch on the map down in Snape's office. It shouldn't have been possible. Why would he be here?"

"And why in Snape's office? Do you think he might have been stealing Potion ingredients?"

"That's what Snape thought." Harry shuddered involuntarily, "Imagine if he had found me. I think I had nightmares about it when I got to bed." He was pretty sure he saw Draco shudder too.

"And you hid from him…under an Invisibility Cloak?" 

Harry nodded, "Yeah, it's mine."

"Merlin." Draco sat back on his hands, "How on earth did you get one of those? No wonder you get away with creeping around the school like a ghost."

"It was my fathers." Harry said softly, feeling the same tightness in his chest he felt whenever he realised the Cloak had been used by his father as well. His father and Professor Lupin and Sirius and…Pettigrew. 

"Oh." Draco said. "It sounds cool."

"It is. I'll show you one day. I keep forgetting to bring it here actually, so I don't have to sneak across the courtyard."

Draco smirked, "You do look weird."

Harry sat up straighter, "Wait, you can see me?" He had thought he was well hidden from anyone if they were to look in to the courtyard. Shit, had anybody seen him and he didn't know?

"I can see everybody from here. Can't you?" And at Harry's expression he continued hastily, "Oh don't worry, Potter. Nobody else can see you except me. Look over there." He pointed across the grounds to the small archway to the courtyard. "From here I can see in between the stone pillars all the way to the entrance of the school, although you wouldn't be able to tell from there. You wouldn't be able to see us but we can see them."

"Oh." Harry said, craning his neck and realising Draco was right, and he could see the entrance. "I hadn't noticed that."

Draco laughed, "Yeah, I figured that." And seeing Harry's face said, "You wouldn't notice if you weren't looking really hard, so it's not because you're that incompetent."

"So how did you see it?" Harry said, scowling.

"I was busy conversing with Lolligo about his menu for the week, and it caught my eye. Want to hear?" Draco bit back quickly. Harry laughed knowing it had no heat, and shook his head.

"Still a prat." He muttered under his breath with amusement.

"What was that?" Draco said sharply.

"I said I saw a rat."

Draco sighed and picked up his books again, beginning to scratch over his parchment in dark green ink. 

"Not funny." He murmured, but Harry thought otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments! They keep me going like you have no idea. I read all of them, but bear with me cause i'm a little too shy to respond. I hear you though!!


	13. Gillyweed

Over the next few weeks, Harry spent majority of his time in the library with a frantic Hermione and begrudgingly helpful Ron. They scoured endlessly through as many sections in the library as they could - almost cover to cover to no avail. Anything that had water or ocean or lake in the name was dumped on their self proclaimed _Tournament Table_. Many students knew by their second week neither to disturb them nor try using the table. They never really had the chance, though. The trio were said to be seen sitting there from as soon as classes ended all the way until dinner everyday. Maybe even more than that.

Fourteen days before the Second Task, they had yet to sift through even half the books they'd collected. Every volume from _Modified Spells for the Beginner Sailor_ to _Advanced Charms for the New Parent_ were flipped through front and back. Library sections from A to H were confirmed to be completely useless in the Potions, Charms and Transfigurations sides of the Library.

Eight days before the Second Task, they had looked through every book remaining in sections H to Z. Nothing was palpable enough to help Harry stay underwater for more than a few minutes. He'd seen Malfoy in the library from time to time, and they only shared secret worried glances with each other. Harry had not gone down to the Lake since the night after he saw Barty Crouch in Snape's office.

Five days before the Second Task, the three had agreed to sneak books from the Restricted Section, much to Hermione's chagrin. They were all becoming more and more desperate, and Harry couldn't help but feel incredibly bad that Ron and Hermione were putting their own studies aside for him. He felt so wound up he barely slept at all, and never had any energy to spare to go down to the Lake either morning or night.

Two days before the Second Task, and Harry had forcibly kicked Ron and Hermione from the Library so they could focus on their own studies instead of helping in his futile search. He had given up hope of completing the task, and may have undignifiedly thrown the egg across his dorm at some point in time. He and Malfoy ignored each other outside of classes, and Harry tried to ignore the boy's concerned looks at odd times during meals when they'd caught each other's eyes. The Restricted Section's books proved no better in helping him, or maybe it was because he didn't have Hermione there with him. He didn't think the words even got in to his brain the more he read. He sat down to research that day and looked up from the same book hours later only to see it was time to leave. He didn't go to dinner. He had stopped going a few days ago.

A day before the Second Task, Ron and Hermione were walking on eggshells around him, and as much as he regretted it he couldn't quite bring himself to care. He barely spoke and instead just sat and thought about the clue. Maybe it wasn't even in water? Maybe it was a metaphor for water. What was a metaphor for water? Air, perhaps. Did they have air Merpeople? Maybe they were called Airpeople. Harry laughed to himself at the thought.

"…Harry?" Ron's voice jolted him out of daydream and he looked at the boy irritably. He hadn't even done anything wrong. He was just…there. Existing with no Golden Egg or Merpeople fantasies.

He groaned internally. Or was it out loud?

"You were laughing just now, mate…" Ron said, glancing at him nervously. 

"Yes, and?" Harry couldn't help but snap, and Ron quickly looked back down at his plate. Harry looked down at his own as well, having forgotten he was at breakfast. There was food on his plate, but he hadn't put it there. He reckoned it was Hermione who had, but she never knew what he really liked.

"What _do_ you really like then, Harry?" She had asked a few days before when he voiced this. But Harry couldn't answer her, so he just shrugged and grabbed his own food, putting it on top of what Hermione had picked and taking a few bites.

Now he didn't have the appetite at all. In fact, the food looked quite revolting. Nausea coiled in his gut threateningly, and he quickly got up.

"Going for a walk." He mumbled, not waiting for Ron or Hermione to respond. He walked out the Hall without looking up, focusing on his shoes and not caring if he bumped in to few people on the way. Before he knew it, he was sitting on his usual spot by the Lake in silence and staring blankly at the water.

"Morning." 

Oh. Malfoy was there too. Damn it all to hell.

Harry grunted in acknowledgement and prayed to any possible God that Malfoy kept his damn mouth shut. Just for a few minutes. Just for once.

"Gillyweed." The boy said, and Harry sat on his hands so he wouldn't throttle him right there. He sighed and closed his eyes, praying for strength.

"What the fuck are you on about?" He asked weakly. Why hadn't he killed him yet? He was right there. Any sane person would understand if he did. Maybe he could get Lolligo to hide the evidence.

"Gillyweed." Malfoy said again.

"Lolligo." Harry said that the same time.

"What?"

"What?"

"Fucking hell, Potter. Are you smoking something?"

"Fuck you! What the fuck is Gillyweed?"

"What do you want with my squid?"

Harry almost punched him. "He's not yours! He's his own squid!"

Malfoy pressed his temple's as if he had a headache. Harry thought it was ironic when _he_ was the headache. 

"He's closest to me, so he's my squid." He said petulantly. 

"You're lying." Harry shot back. "I bet the squid doesn't even know who are." He crossed his arms and stared at Malfoy challengingly. 

"You want to put that to test? I can tell him to say hello during the Task tomorrow!" Malfoy yelled. At the mention of the task, Harry felt his face crumple in to his hands. He tried to push down the broiling emotions that steeped all the way to his gut, but for some reason his mind didn't allow such things by the Lake. It would have been easier if he was in the Great Hall, around other people, or while talking to Ron and Hermione when it was so easy to push down his feelings for them. Now, he felt awfully bare and it made him draw up his knees and bow his head between them and his chest. The small ensconced space was dark, but it felt safe. There was silence for a long time after that. Neither boy said anything.

Then his vision of the ground blurred in front of him, and he was grateful for his crossed arms and knees that hid his face from the other boy. God, why couldn't Malfoy just fuck off somewhere else? Why was he always at the Lake? Just sitting there and studying and existing and now Harry had just come to clear his head a bit but instead he was about to cry right in front of him. Harry didn't want to cry, he _didn't_. It wasn't his _fault_.

"Harry?" Malfoy asked in that strange voice Harry could never get used to. He didn't reply. Didn't trust himself to. He settled for a slight shake of his head and hoped Malfoy might by some chance take the hint and _leave him alone_. The air felt like solid glass, and if he moved or spoke he felt he'd break something. Shatter it in to millions and millions of pieces that magic could never possibly fix. 

Like a frozen Lake with hundreds of thousands of fractures and fissures that would break through if he moved even an inch.

He didn't feel like this anywhere else other than by the Lake. And maybe that's why there were suddenly uncontrollable tears streaming down his face, in to the ground, hidden from view but feeling like the loudest things he could have done.

It was moments before he realised his shoulders were heaving in to the space his body was curled around. His shoulders were moving like he was laughing. It was odd, because he didn't find anything particularly funny at the moment.

Then he realised that they were silent sobs wracking through his body, that were automatically restrained as much as possible and pulled in to his chest. He didn't make any sound. Anybody passing by would have thought he was laughing like a lunatic, not crying like he was a little boy in his cupboard again.

"Oh shit…Are you- I don't know-" Harry heard Malfoy next to him, and he'd almost forgotten the boy was there. Shame immediately ripped through Harry, and he quickly choked down his sobs and looked up at Malfoy. He tried to smile as convincingly as he could, tears still rolling down his cheeks but trying to come across genuinely as if they weren't there.

"'m fine." He said, his voice rough and jagged and slightly frayed at the ends in utter betrayal. Malfoy's mouth was slack, wide eyes looking over him, assessing something Harry didn't know. He didn't want Malfoy to see him in that state, but there they were, and he was waiting for the boy to make a snide remark or sarcastically insult him. Maybe Harry deserved it. It was his fault for crying at all. 

But nothing of the sort came his way.

"I'm sorry." Harry said to him again, hating the lack of sound except for the crying he couldn't seem to stop. Malfoy wasn't saying anything, and that was almost worse. He rarely even cried in front of his friends. What was he doing here? He felt more embarrassed than he'd ever felt in his life.

"What on earth could you be sorry for?" Malfoy asked, and it took Harry back to a night some time ago when they had apologised to each other back and forth, as if it could explain why they kept coming back to the same spot. Malfoy was turned to him, a look almost like worry in his eyes.

"For being…like this." Harry said between heaves of his chest. He hated the way his voice sounded. It was small, too quiet and something he hadn't heard in a while.

_Stop crying!_ He told himself. _Crying's not going to get you anywhere!_

And it took a moment for Harry to realise that it wasn't his own voice in his head saying those things. It was an amalgamation of his Aunt Petunia's and Uncle Vernon's, so clear he would have thought they were next to him. Coarse voices sifting through the slits of a cramped cupboard under the stairs.

"Harry, you're shivering." Malfoy's voice was like silk compared to his relative's, but it only made Harry want to cry even more. 

A moment later, he felt a blanket of warmth encompass him, and he hadn't realised that he'd felt so cold until he was surrounded by it. He realised that Malfoy had his wand out and had probably cast a warming charm on him. He looked at the boy gratefully, vision still blurry despite his glasses sitting crookedly on his nose.

"Thank you." He said in his awful nasally voice, cursing how much of an idiot he sounded.

"What's wrong?" Malfoy said, sounding cautious and looking at him as if he may well break. Harry only laughed, although he didn't know why.

"I hate this Tournament." He said with a wry smile, ignoring that he hiccupped between words slightly. "I didn't want this."

And Malfoy didn't say anything.

"They were probably on to something when they wouldn't let the younger years participate. _Fuck_." He shook his head ruefully. "Because otherwise they'd end up like me right now. I'm sorry." He said, not looking at Malfoy.

"Stop saying sorry." Malfoy said, and it sounded sharper than Harry expected, and he turned his head to him quickly.

"Why?"

"Because you have no reason to be?" And Harry tried not flinch at the words. "I'm actually glad you've let it some of it out, to be quite honest. You've looked on the verge of murder and total collapse for the last few weeks. Did you know you bottle up all your emotions?"

Harry paused, not knowing how to respond. "I didn't, I suppose."

"Well you do." Malfoy said, taking on his usual know-it-all tone that Harry was more familiar with. "It's terribly annoying to look at you because of it, sometimes."

Harry couldn't help but let a small smile waver over his face. "I meant that I was sorry that you had to…you know. Be here. See it." 

Something flickered in Malfoy's eyes, but he quickly looked down at his hands for a moment. Harry noticed the boy did that when he was thinking hard about something. 

"Granted, I'm no less than surprised. But you can't really help it, can you? It's not your fault. You shouldn't be in this Tournament in the first place." He said noncommittally, as if he were talking about the weather. Harry thought about the words for a bit.

_It's not your fault._

But he couldn't really understand what the boy meant by them, so he put them away in his mind.

"I could do something to maybe help you, though." Malfoy said, almost making Harry a bit scared at the boy's entailing tone.

"Er…Okay."

"Gillyweed." Malfoy said for the third time that morning, and Harry fought down his irritation. At Harry's sour expression, Malfoy continued quickly, "It's a plant - or a weed. I don't know, ask Longbottom." Harry quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. "I saw Professor Snape using it for a Potion yesterday. It's basically added to potions to counteract their drying effect from other ingredients. Especially the ones with alkali or water bases? It's mostly in liquid form, though-"

"Um, Malfoy? The point, please."

The boy scowled, "I was _getting there_ , if you would have shut up for a moment." He said in a tone that made Harry wonder if the same person was even there with him earlier. Harry was glad he wasn't treating him any differently than before, even if was still a prick. 

"Gillyweed in liquid form is used for potions, but in it's pure plant - or weed- form, it can have certain…effects on a person if they consumed the stuff."

Harry sat forward, a little too interested in a Slytherin educating him about dodgy plants he was supposed to eat. He nodded for the boy to go on.

"Right. Well, there've been cases of wizards or witches stumbling upon the stuff while out by coastlines and such. As one does, they would ingest some - exclusively orally. After that, their bodies would…change. Some reported side effects such as suffocation, tightness of the chest, asphyxia, and dehydration." He waited for a moment for it to sink in to Harry, but he was just busy wondering how Malfoy could remember all that off the top of his head. 

"And you want to give me this… _plant_ , to eat and, what, suffocate? Asphyxiate? Whatever that even means."

"No, but wait a moment. Those adverse effects occurred in every case until one day, one of the victims manages to fall in to a lake right after consuming it. After that, apparently all aforementioned symptoms were immediately relieved. They may have even enhanced their abilities to swim through the water. I'm guessing the case files were brief because no one really believed them, but I found it in a thesis in the Herbology section…" Malfoy kept talking, but Harry wasn't listening because there was a bubbling in his chest that felt a little bit like hope.

"Draco, wait." Harry said, halting the boy's talking. "We have class soon, but could you tell me about it later?"

"But you don't even know if it will work. It's just a theory, nothing's guaranteed-"

"It's enough." Harry interrupted, sounding surer than he'd felt in ages, "It's the biggest chance I've got, and that's all I need."

Draco looked at Harry like he was crazy, and fine, besides that he hadn't slept much in a while and possibly looked the same, he probably was. It also possibly had something to do with the maniacal grin broken across Harry's face that he couldn't seem to suppress. 

It wasn't his fault. Draco had just dangled the possible answer he'd been looking for for weeks right in front of his face. Bloody git. Harry'd never felt more grateful for the boy in his life. 

And that's why when they both made to stand up, Harry broke every unspoken law and rule of the Lake and wrapped his arms around Draco quickly, almost knocking the boy off balance. At Draco's sharp intake of breath, Harry squeezed a little tighter and hoped the boy didn't hex him. After a moment, however, he was astonished to feel a pair of arms come up around his waist as he was being hugged back.

"Thank you." Harry murmured in to the boy's shoulder after a moment of fragile silence, and he meant it more than anything in the world. 

"I'm sorry." The boy whispered back, and Harry drew back a bit with Draco still in his arms to look at him face to face.

"What on earth could you be sorry for?" Harry asked with eyes stuck on Draco's, which were the most stunning shade of grey it almost made him angry with misunderstanding of how it could wantonly be so.

"You shouldn't be in this Tournament. You're just a boy." Draco said to him, so softly it could have been wind rushing past Harry's ears.

And Harry allowed himself to smile in a way he never let anyone even close to him see. It felt sad, longing, painful. But it was also paired with a small feeling that he had done one right thing so far this year, and it was becoming friends with Draco Malfoy.

-o-o-

When Harry got back inside just as breakfast ended, he saw Ron and Hermione walking out the Great Hall. When they saw him they looked both apprehensive and relieved at the same time, and Harry rushed towards them and pulled them in to a bone-crushing hug before they could say anything.

"Oh! Hello Harry!" He heard Hermione exclaim in surprise in one ear. Almost immediately, he felt both his friends arms come around him, encompassing him from both sides.

"Hey mate." Ron said in his other ear. Harry pulled back completely, beaming. 

"Hi guys." He said, and awarded by puzzled expressions from both. "Potions first, right? Let's be off before we're late." He started walking ahead of them, a little too much bounce in his step.

"Snape's got points to take off of me, so let's hurry!" He called out behind him, and was promptly followed by Ron and Hermione, whom were very confused indeed. 

-o-o-

That evening, Ron and Hermione were called off somewhere by McGonagall, and Harry took the opportunity to go talk to Draco. He signaled at the boy from across the Hall at dinner, the first time either of them had initiated a meeting down by the Lake. Harry left first when he received a brief nod and waited for ten minutes before Draco dropped down next to him on the soft ground, a heavy textbook in his hands.

"Right." He said in his no-nonsense, business-only tone, "This thesis is the only one of the author in the entire library. The tosser mostly went on about the cases of the ingested Gillyweed, and the rest is just speculation about it's possibilities for…underwater survival. In fact, all of it is speculation." He looks up at Harry intensely, "If you're willing to take the risk, then we can try it."

Harry grinned, "Did you forget you're talking to a Gryffindor? Hell yeah I'll do it. I told you I would before."

But Draco still looked slightly worried, "No. You don't _understand_. It might not go well."

"I know. I do understand." Harry said, smile wavering at Draco's nervous energy. "What's wrong?"

Malfoy snapped the book shut and held it to his chest, "I thought about it the whole day, Harry. The more I looked at these notes…maybe it's not such a good idea. What I said was completely theoretical. _Completely_ , Harry. It was just an idea I had, and it's barely even backed up by the author of this thesis. I'm just saying we still have time to keep looking-"

"No." Harry said, leaving no room for argument. But when did Draco ever apply to that?

"How can you say no? Have you lost the plot?" Draco shot back.

"The task is tomorrow!" Harry exclaimed, trying to reign in the volume of his voice, "We don't have time. _I_ don't have time." He looked Draco straight in the eyes, hoping it would convey his words better than he could, "I have faith in your theory, alright? You're not dumb. In fact, sometimes you're almost as smart as Hermione - when you're not being a prat, that is. That's why I'm going to take the Gillyweed tomorrow. Understood? _I'm willing to take the risk._ "

Draco frowned and laid back on the ground, still clutching the book to his chest.

"Fine." He said, and Harry exhaled a breath of relief.

"Now where in Godric's name do we get some of the stuff?" Harry asked him. Draco blew a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"You won't like it." He said. And if Draco said it, Harry probably wouldn't. "It's in Snape's office."

" _Shit_." Harry immediately swore, and Draco nodded in agreement. The boy was stroking the book on his chest thoughtfully, staring blankly at the sky.

"But since I'm already an accomplice…" He started, smirking mischievously.

And Harry slowly grinned.

-o-o-

"Harry Potter! Dobby is to be waking up Harry Potter. Harry potter must be waking up!"

Harry started with a bump on his head from where he'd been sleeping in the library. It seemed that at some point in the night he'd slumped over half is body underneath a table. He hadn't planned to fall asleep there but must have gotten carried away trying to find out more about Gillyweed while Draco stole some from Snape's office.

"Harry Potter! Dobby is being sent with a package! Dobby is not recommending Harry Potter opens it! It's from the bad boy!" The house elf almost sobbed in front of him.

"Dobby…" Harry yawned and rubbed his eyes, "What are you talking about…"

"The bad boy! Malfoy! He is ordering Dobby to deliver this to you!" And Dobby holds out a small vial of something sickeningly green and slimy inside. "Harry Potter must not trust the Malfoy boy!"

Harry grabbed the vial, slowly coming back to himself, "It's okay, Dobby. Malfoy is my friend. He's not bad."

"Harry Potter is too forgiving! He is too good to be in danger!" And with a wave of panic, Harry checks his watch.

"SHIT, DOBBY! I'M LATE! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?" Harry shot up at lightening speed, sleep replaced by sheer adrenaline. He ran out the library despite Madam Pince's shrieking and sprinted all the way down the stairs and out the castle, vial clutched in hand.

There were already masses of crowds surrounding the Lake, and Harry rushed past them to the Champion's podium, heart racing.

"I'm here!" Harry shouted, rousing the attention of McGonagall and Dumbledore.

"Ah! See, Minnie. He's right here. Alright, Harry?" Dumbledore twinkled. Harry was too busy trying to catch his breath. He left the two teachers to go change, hearing McGonagall whisper sternly to Dumbledore before he left, "Don't call me Minnie, Albus."

Dressed to go in the water moments later, he glanced at the vial in his hand and looked at the crowd. He immediately spotted Draco's blonde head amongst a sea of green scarves, and the boy caught his eye. He nodded nervously, and Harry smiled and shook the vial. The sides of the boy's mouths twitched, but he just tapped his nose knowingly, three times. He then traced a finger from his mouth down the line of his throat. It wasn't exactly clear, but Harry understood anyway.

_Take three bites and swallow. Do not chew._

He could almost hear the drone of the boy's voice in his head, and he nodded and shot another smile before leaving as the Champion's were called up. He hadn't seen Ron or Hermione this whole time. Were they not worried at all? He hoped they could see him from the stands.

"The Champions will have one hour to retrieve what is most dear to them!" The crowd roared in response.

"Champions! Your time starts in three…two…one!" 

And Harry popped open the vial.


	14. The Forest, the Lake and the Castle.

Draco couldn't believe it when Harry first dived in to the water like he'd bloody lived there all his life, gills and all.

_It had bloody worked._

He still couldn't believe it an hour and some later when Harry finally emerged from the depths of the Lake, bringing with him his ginger friend and another blonde girl.

"Harry Potter is tied in first place with Cedric Diggory!" The sonorous rumbled after the points were calculated, and Draco couldn't help but clap along with everyone else, restraining from the chants and hollers from other houses along with the rest of the Slytherin's.

"Your boy did well." Blaise's voice murmured in his ear, and Draco was too chuffed that his bloody Gillyweed worked to even respond. 

Harry did it. _And Draco had helped him._ It took all of him not to look as incredibly pleased as he felt, and he and his friends filed out the stands as Harry was swallowed by the adoring crowds.

 _It was me who helped him._ Draco thought, and it shouldn't have been as satisfying to tell himself as it was.

-o-o-

Draco barely saw Harry for the next week besides during classes. Celebrations about the task had yet to be ceased around the boy and it made him close to unapproachable, although Harry did surreptitiously smile at him a few times in the Great Hall, and Draco always just quirked an eyebrow in response. 

_Bugger off._ Draco would sometimes mouth at him, and the git would just smile wider like an idiot.

Ten days after the second task, Harry walked up to Draco as he was doing his Charms homework by the Lake and hovered in the same spot for a few moments, utterly silent. Draco was just about to snap at him to sit the fuck down before the boy spoke.

"Would it be terribly bad if I hugged you again? Just once?" He asked tentatively, hands clenched at his sides as if a coiled spring about to strike.

Draco raised an eyebrow, trying not to let his amusement show. This Hufflepuff hugging bullshit was going to have to stop very soon, but he couldn't help but match the boy's joy at their plan having not only worked, but allowing Harry to win the task. 

He let Harry become uncomfortable under his gaze for a few moments, then waved a hand at him noncommittally, "If you must." 

Harry strode forward, down on to his knees by Draco and wrapped him up in his arms. Draco didn't let himself hug the boy back, but was nonetheless pleased by the show of gratitude. Not that he'd have ever admitted it out loud. Whether he smiled in to the boy's shoulder just a little, he wouldn't have admitted either.

Harry drew back, an almost painful looking grin on his face, "It worked!" 

Draco scoffed and patted down his sleeves, "Naturally. It was my idea." He drawled, and it was Harry's turn to scoff.

"Fuck you. You panicked just as much as me."

Draco threw a hand over his heart, "Is that how you thank your _saviour?_ " Draco accused scandalously. "Remind me to keep my Gillyweed to myself next time!"

Harry snorted and settled down next to him in to his usual Lake-gazing position. "It was brilliant." He scrunched up his nose slightly, "But I'm never putting that stuff in my mouth again. It was _wretched_." He said disgustedly. 

Draco scratched on to his Charms essay, "Maybe you and Lolligo can bond over it sometime."

Harry grinned sidelong, "I thought he was your squid?" 

"He likes to get to know his meals first." Draco said without missing a beat, and Harry laughed, throwing his head back. Draco noticed how he looked much better rested than before the task. He'd even seen him eating properly in the Hall the last few days. He definitely looked less corpse-ish than before.

"And the next task?" Draco asked, having wondered about it since the last one ended. Harry shrugged vaguely, as if he wasn't almost going in to shock from the idea of the last task.

"Don't know yet. Said they might show us soon."

"Right." Draco said, half-listening as he focused on a difficult point on his essay. He thought about it more for a moment before looking up at Harry quickly.

"For the _Accio_ charm, was the wand movement a loop or a half-circle?"

Harry looked stunned for a moment, before answering, "It's an arc." 

Draco raised an eyebrow, "That's what I said." He said flatly.

"Uh, no. You said loop or half-circle." 

"A half-circle is an arc, Harry!" Draco said loudly. He threw up his hands in defeat and Harry smiled sheepishly. Bloody git.

"Never mind you. You never even do your homework." Draco muttered under his breath.

"I do! I just do it very close to the deadline. There's a difference." Harry said indignantly, crossing his arms like he was bloody proud of the fact. _Gryffindors_.

"Right." Draco scoffed, "And I'm here because I enjoy these _intelligent_ conversations of ours."

Harry stretched and lay back with a yawn, "Go talk to your beloved _Lolligo_ then." He said with what Draco could only describe as a _pout_. "You know, I still think you're bluffing about that bloody squid."

"Go right ahead." Draco said obligingly, You'll never understand our bond."

"I don't think I'll ever understand _most_ things. Especially to do with you. Just keep up with the good ideas like the Gillyweed one and we'll be winning this tournament in piss time." Harry crossed his arms over his head and laid on them lazily.

"And here I thought you were here for my thrilling conversation." Draco said with a wry smile, eyes scanning his parchment.

Harry smiled back at him, glasses obscuring the view of his eyes with the reflections on the moonlight on them, "It just helps me think, is all." He said, throwing Draco's words back at him from before. Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. It wasn't anything new, but he had realised Harry wasn't actually dumb as he'd thought, but rather intelligent be it in a different way. He was quick-witted when he wanted to be, and had the ability to know just what to say to different types of people that let him get along with them. Draco supposed that was why Harry was so good at Defense and spellwork. It was also probably why he knew how to keep up with Draco in their usual verbal sparring, or in whatever their resemblance of getting along.

He could have been a good Slytherin, if he wasn't such an idiot all the time.

"Perhaps you should move locations. It doesn't seem to be helping all that much." Draco said.

Harry snorted, "Are you joking? I'm never giving this spot up. The bloody naps I get here are unbelievable. Not to mention nobody can find me here - Except you, that is, but I've learnt to deal with it." He sat up and looked around with his head, angling it weirdly as if looking for something on the horizon, "And if you turn your head in just the right angle, you can see the Forest, the Lake and the Castle all at once."

Draco looked curiously at Harry, not expecting the boy to have been one for small details as far as his eyes could see. "Ah, yes. The murder forest, the bottomless squid vessel and a boarding school. Beautiful, Potter." 

Harry picked up one of Draco's spare parchments laying around and chucked it at him. The effect was dampened as the paper just wafted through the air and glided around Draco.

"Shut up. Bloody pessimist." He said. Draco caught the paper from the air, laughing and setting it into one of his textbooks safely away from the boy.

"Oh dear Potty, you're using big words again! Maybe little Harry should go to bed!" Draco cooed sickly. Harry glared at him, but his eyes were alight with humour anyway.

"Fine. I'm going - but not because you told me to!" Harry said, getting up and dusting off his trousers, "I left Ron and Seamus in a chess match and Seamus should have lost by now. Best be there for Ron to tell me about it."

Draco nodded, not really caring what Harry's friends did but listening anyway.

"See you." Draco said, inspecting a broken nub on one of his quills as Harry turned away. Harry threw up a wave without looking back and disappeared across the grounds. 

Draco looked up for a moment towards the Lake when Harry had left. He turned his head slightly, and for a fleeting moment managed to encompass the Forest, the Lake and the Castle in his vision all at once.

And the view wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

-o-o-

Soon, they were slowly approaching March and the nights by the Lake were becoming less and less brisk. They didn't meet all the time, but only when they managed to catch each other doing their work or having a break in the spot.

"Find another spot, Potter. This one's obviously taken by me." Draco once said to Harry when the boy came across him sitting in some well-needed silence from the heavy atmosphere of the Slytherin Common Room.

"Technically, I found this place first. Never mind that I brought you to it." Harry would always say, and Draco would leave it at that. 

On one particularly warm day, Draco had been laying under the tree while everyone else had gone to Hogsmeade and was watching the leaves, now brilliantly green, sway above him through filtered sunlight. He raised up a hand above him and stared at his palm, thinking about nothing at all and letting himself settle in to a hazy state between wakefulness and sleep.

Just when he felt his eyes flutter closed, was of course the time Harry came rumbling over.

"Draco." Harry's voice came from above him.

"He's not here." Draco replied tiredly, but opened his eyes anyway and saw Harry standing over him looking obviously worried about something. His eyebrows were furrowed slightly and his hands were clenched at his sides. "What's wrong." Draco said, eyes narrowing. Harry started, then stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Why would anything be wrong?" He said with a fake nonchalance that almost made Draco wince.

"You can't lie to me, Potter. You're hiding something." Draco sat up and watched Harry perch unsurely next to him on the ground. He looked at the Lake nervously and obviously avoided eye contact.

"How do you know." He said weakly, stalling from the actual point.

"I can tell when people lie." Draco said, and narrowed his eyes at Harry, "Especially you. It's the disgusting Gryffindor traits, I think."

Harry laughed even though Draco hadn't purposely made a joke. 

"Just spill it, Potter." Draco said sternly. He wondered what could have possible happened to make Harry so nervous, especially since it seemed to do partially with _Draco_.

Harry readjusted his position then took a deep breath. He looked at Draco, "Remember Sirius Black?" He asked as if he were asking about the weather.

Draco blanched. That wasn't what he had expected. Why would Harry be talking about an escaped convict all of a sudden?

"Is he back?" Draco gasped. He remembered how Black had apparently broken in and assaulted a portrait the year before. He'd also been after Harry for revenge, but had inexplicably disappeared at the end of the year. 

Harry smiled weakly and room another breath. Merlin, was it that bad?

"Well, not exactly. Can you promise you'll let me explain?" He asked intently. Draco almost refused and demanded to know what the fuck was going on, but his curiosity overruled him. He nodded slowly, half-expecting Black to just pop up out of a bush somewhere.

"Right. Well, Sirius was my Godfather." He looked at Draco curiously, "I'm not sure if that was public knowledge or not."

"It was." Draco said, "He was your Godfather and he…betrayed your parents to…"

"Right. You know all that then. Well…" He braced himself, fiddling with a loose thread on the edge of his shirt that Draco itched to fix. "Sirius was framed by Peter Pettigrew and never actually sold out my parents. He was in Azkaban unlawfully for twelve years and escaped before Third Year to get his revenge on Pettigrew, not me." The boy said so quickly Draco would have thought he'd imagined it.

Draco quickly placed the back of his hand on Harry's forehead, and the boy started.

"What-"

"Potter, are you sure you're not sick? You're talking nonsense-"

Harry batted his hand away, "I'm not sick, you knob! It's the truth, if you'll just _listen_." He articulated. Draco set his hand back down his lap disbelievingly but gestured for the boy to go on.

"Sirius was framed by Pettigrew, and he came back to Hogwarts to find him but everyone thought he was after me."

Draco felt himself pale, "Pettigrew was here?"

"Yeah, I'll get there. Pettigrew, Sirius, Remus Lupin and my father were all friends at school."

Draco nodded slowly, trying to let the information sink in but finding it difficult with so much at once. Harry didn't notice, and continued.

"They all learned to become Animagi because of…something - unregistered, of course. Pettigrew's Animagus form was a rat, and he'd spent the years as - and please know I'm telling the truth - Ron's pet rat Scabbers."

Draco gasped, "That horrid thing? I was wondering where it'd gone!" He cried.

Harry smiled just a bit, "I know. It was a lot. Well, Sirius came to get his revenge on Pettigrew for selling out my parents and framing him, and they confronted each other at the end of last year." He paused as if in deep thought for a moment then shook himself slightly, "Things didn't work out, and Pettigrew escaped. Because of that, we couldn't clear Sirius's name. He even got captured by some Dementor's but escaped in time. He's been on the run since." He finished with a wry smile Draco didn't understand.

"Merlin." Was all he could say. 

Harry smiled at Draco, "Yeah." But his smiled wavered and he flicked his eyes away from him.

"So Black was innocent?" 

Harry nodded.

"But…he was in Azkaban for twelve years! That's horrible!" He looked at Harry suspiciously, "You aren't taking the piss, are you?"

"No, actually. It's all true. Sirius escaped and we've been corresponding this past year."

"So what has this have to do with you looking like you're about to pass out? And you better tell me the truth, Potter."

Harry sighed and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. "Can you really tell when anyone is lying?" He started cleaning his glasses with his shirt.

"Yes. A skill courtesy of my father. Now stop deflecting." Draco said in one breath.

"Er, right. Well we agreed to meet today." Harry said slowly placing his glasses back on.

"Fuck. He can't be here, Harry-"

"I know, Draco. He was in Hogsmeade and he practically lives in his Animagus form, so he's alright for now." He assured. "He wanted to talk about the Tournament, and then he spoke to me alone after - Ron and Hermione were there too by the way."

"Naturally." Draco remarked, and ignored Harry's glare.

"And I…" The boy said. Draco's heart sped up.

"And you what?" He asked urgently. Why was Potter so hesitant to tell him?

Then he realised the only possible thing that would make Harry so hesitant to tell _him_.

"Oh no. Harry you didn’t really-"

"I did." The boy winced. Draco's mouth fell open. 

If there was one way to get Draco to shut up, Potter had found it.

"You absolute _pillock_!" Draco roared, "Are you fucking insane?"

"I'm sorry!" Harry exclaimed, "I just felt like I needed to!"

"I don't give a toss, Harry! You just told an ex-convict-" He ignored Harry's scowl because damn him, Draco was the one who should have been angry at the moment, "-that I was, what? Defecting? A spy? A complete idiot for trusting you?"

"Sirius won't do anything, you wanker." Harry growled. "Calm the fuck down and let me explain!"

"You'd better! I'm this close to beating the shit out of you!" And Harry immediately cut him off by covering his mouth with his hand. Draco's eyes widened, seething.

 _Bad move, Potter._ He told him with his eyes, shooting a murderous glare at the boy.

"Just _listen_ , Draco. I told him because he wanted to know about my life, and he looks so lonely, you see, so I ended up telling him about it. And he doesn’t speak to anyone - ever. I promise you can trust him." He slowly took his hand off Draco's mouth as if expecting his head to be bit off. Draco had the right bloody _mind_ to.

"And what did he say?" Draco gritted out.

"He was…skeptical at first." And Draco huffed sarcastically. "But after I told him about the Gillyweed and the task, he believed me a bit more."

Draco threw himself back on the ground, covering his face with his arm. "Merlin. Now I've got a fugitive knowing I've gone soft."

"You've not gone soft, you tosser. And it sounded like he genuinely believed me, so he's not mad."

"Not mad? Harry, he's got every right to be!"

Harry quirked his head slightly, "Why on earth would he-"

Draco sat up, "He is a Black! My Mother was a Black too, Harry. We're cousins!"

Harry's eyes widened, "Oh shit! I completely forgot. That's so…"

"Weird?"

"Yes, actually." Harry said, laughing. "You're both related. That's weird."

"I didn't even know till a few years ago. His name was blasted off the family tree a long time ago after he left his home."

"Oh. That's why your eyes are the same colour." Harry said off-handedly, lapsing in to a thoughtful silence again.

"He probably hates me." Draco sighed, not listening to Harry and imagining all the ways Sirius Black may want to murder him at the moment. "Death Eater's _son_."

"I made sure he knew you weren't like that. Don't worry."

"Makes me feel way better, Potter." Draco said, but decided to let the matter lie for the time being. "Thanks for ruining the nap I was about to have, by the way."

Harry, the git, laid down where he was sitting and closed his eyes, "Bugger. A nap sounds great, Draco. Wake me up when the sun sets, please." He said sweetly, and Draco whacked him once in the stomach.

"Oof! Fuck!" The boy clutched his stomach and groaned while Draco muttered murderous obscenities' under his breath. He laid down and turned away from Harry, grumbling about annoying Gryffindor's thinking they owned the place.

"Find another fucking spot, already. Your presence is annoying and bad for quality sleep." Draco called out to Harry, the dredges of sleep claiming him quickly. He blamed it on the easy warmth that settled around the late-afternoon weather.

Potter shuffled behind him, but didn't move away.

"It's my spot." He reminded Draco, yawning. "Get the fuck away from me."

But Draco was already barely conscious, and didn't deign a reply. Sleep swept him away, and he dreamt of strange omens of death in the shapes of black shadows.


	15. Friends

Harry woke up in the same position he'd fallen asleep in hours later, and the sun was just beginning to disappear in to the Lake horizon. He looked over and saw Draco still on his side facing away from him, hushed, even breaths marked by the steady rise and fall of his shoulders.

He hadn't necessarily lied to Draco earlier, but to say Sirius hadn't taken the news well was severely sugar coating it. It took Harry ten minutes to calm his Godfather down before he could even begin to explain.

"Malfoy's _son_?" Sirius had roared upon the news, "That man is a Death Eater, Harry, and I bet my life his son will be just like him! Now is not the time to be… _fraternising_ with people like _that_ , especially when you know that there's Death Eater activity targeting you!" Sirius then went on a lengthy tirade about the man's crimes and misplaced trust. 

When Harry finally got his chance to speak, he was pretty sure he'd never spoken so much without a breath in between in his life. He told Sirius everything since the Yule Ball, and by the time he was done, he was panting for breath.

Sirius stared at him for a few moments afterwards, and Harry rubbed his sweaty hands over his jeans as he waited for the man to say something.

" _Please._ " Harry pleaded, unable to maintain the silence, "He's not bad. He's mean, and a dick, and he tormented me for years but he's not the same anymore, and he's not his father. He wants different things than being a Death Eater and killing muggles, and I _believe him_. Please just trust me, Sirius. _Please_ " He wanted to cringe at the desperation in his voice, especially if it was for someone like Draco Malfoy, but somewhere deep down he wanted his Godfather's approval because he was all he had. Even deeper down, he also knew what he said was the truth, and he believed that Malfoy wasn't bad or plotting against him.

Something flickered over Sirius's face as he heard Harry, and his gaze softened just a bit. He rubbed his hands over his eyes tiredly, sighing deeply.

"Okay. Bloody hell…If you trust him then fine. I'll take your word for it." And Harry sagged a little, wiping some of the accumulated perspiration on his forehead. "But, please promise you'll be careful. You may be able to trust him, but would others be able to? If he's willing to protect you, what about Ron and Hermione? People he isn't as close to? Slytherins are fickle people, Harry. They will defend anything that's theirs, but that’s as far as it goes. Best self-interests in mind at all times. It's hard to change people like them."

Harry looked at his shoes, nodding, "I understand. They're cunning and self-preserving and will do anything to win." He looked up at Sirius, knowing where his choices lay and trust had been placed, "But they're also loyal. Draco doesn't need to change. His loyalties lay in the same place as mine. I can swear it on my parents, if you'd ask me to."

Sirius stiffened, eyes wide, but said nothing. Something like understanding passed over him, but he hid it quickly. He stood and walked up to Harry, placing both hands on his shoulders.

"Be careful, Harry." Sirius said, his grey eyes burning in to Harry's in a sort of familiarity he couldn't quite place.

"Always." Harry said, and smiled when Sirius pulled him in to a hug, chuckling. He drew back with a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Your dad being who he was, I find that hard to believe." He said, and slapped Harry on the back. "Now go on. Your friends must be waiting."

And he couldn't help but panic just a _little_ when he got back from Hogsmeade and saw Draco laying down in their spot. He didn't know the boy would be bloody Sherlock Holmes when it came to deception. Not that Harry was any good at hiding his emotions.

Draco sighed next to him and turned over, his hands cushioning his head. He murmured something in his sleep Harry couldn't decipher, but found it amusing just the same.

"Draco." Harry said gently, not knowing if the boy would kill him if he woke him up. "Oi. Wake up, you tosser." But Draco didn't stir. Harry braced himself up on to his knees and cupped the sides of his mouth.

"MALFOY!" Harry yelled, startling the boy awake with a harsh snort. His eyes immediately found Harry and he _glared_ like death itself. 

Harry gripped his wand tightly behind his back. Just to be on the safe side.

"I don't even have the _words_ , Potter, for how much I want to hex you right now." He spat, and Harry had to bite down a grin because of the boy's scalding tone in contrast to his pathetically disheveled appearance. Draco groaned and threw a hand over his eyes. "Now I have a headache. Thanks."

"Anytime." Harry smiled, "Were you here the whole day?"

Draco nodded, "Joke's on me for thinking I could get any rest when you're around."

Harry chuckled, "The whole day, though? What about your friends, Pansy and Blasé?" Harry said, commending himself for knowing the other Slytherin bloke's name.

Draco snorted and lifted his arm to look at Harry amusedly. "Blasé, huh?"

"Yeah, why?" Harry frowned, not knowing what was so funny. Draco just shook his head, laughing quietly to himself. 

"Weirdo." Harry muttered, shaking his head as well.

"They went to Hogsmeade." Draco answered after he stopped laughing, "I wanted to stay and get some work done."

"That worked out well then." Harry remarked, and Draco snorted. His eyes flicked to Harry quickly and something glinted in his eyes for a second that Harry didn't understand.

"It's all your fault." Draco said offhandedly, instead focusing closely on Harry all of a sudden. His eyes were roving somewhere over his shoulder for some reason, and Harry whipped around to see if anyone was behind them.

"What-" And turned back around to see Draco walking to where Harry was sitting, wand drawn.

"Draco, what-" Harry asked urgently, but was interrupted by Draco pushing his chest down and muttering a familiar spell with his wand pointing at Harry's head.

 _Not again._

He felt an uncomfortable sensation cover his scalp and he pushed Draco away, scrambling up and grabbing his head.

"Fuck you, Draco! Fucking tell me next time!" Harry cried. Draco had his had grasping his stomach and was cackling in glee.

"What's the fun in that?" He gasped out, doubling over. "Your face! Merlin, Harry!"

"Why the fuck would you do that?" Harry shrieked, feeling his lack of hair once again since the Yule Ball.

"It was long again." Draco stated, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. He deftly swished his wand and the hair on the ground vanished.

"Bloody tell me then, you knob! That's what normal people do! They don't do it for others!"

"As I said, what's the fun in that." Draco grinned devilishly and Harry wanted to throttle him. "Look at you now, though! So presentable." The boy sighed, looking extremely pleased with himself, "It almost looks less like an owl's nest!"

"Fuck you." Harry grumbled, and Draco laughed again. Bloody prat. 

"Oh god. What will my friends say?" Harry realised with horror. He touched his head as if it might get up and walk away.

"I think they'll say it's a very nice haircut you got, Harry. ' Oh, Harry, how on earth did you do it?' They would say, ' Why didn't you take _me_ to the Yule Ball, Harry?' " Draco said, batting his eyelashes like a bloody whore.

"Shut it for a second." Harry snapped, his mind racing and worry creeping in, "They both know you gave me that haircut before the Ball. How am I going to explain this?" Harry waved erratically at his head.

"Just say you liked the style and did it yourself-"

"I do not like the style! And they both know I'm pants at cutting charms, so checkmate. They'll know it was you." Harry said, crossing his arms. Draco's smile wavered, and he stared at Harry with wide eyes.

"Oh." He said simply, and Harry grunted in agreement.

"You're an idiot." Harry said. Draco, inexplicably, nodded in agreement. Harry sighed and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes with one hand while the other held them.

"Fine. I guess it's time to tell them." Harry said defeatedly. 

"Tell them what?" Draco startled.

"About this." Harry said, flicking a finger between him and Draco and putting on his glasses, "Just that we talk to each other like normal people now. I wouldn't say the rest at the moment."

"Will they…" Draco started, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes nervously looking at the ground. "Will they get mad?"

Harry nodded, "Probably, but miracles happen. That’s if they even notice, but nothing gets past Hermione."

"Right." Draco said, looking slightly deflated. Harry didn't understand why the boy's mood suddenly changed before his eyes caught on the sun sliced in half by the horizon, but looking whole anyways in the reflection of the Lake.

"It doesn't mean I'll stop coming here." Harry said slowly, and Draco's eyes shot up to his.

"Right." The boy said boredly, but something in his eyes said something else.

"They'll just have to get used to it." Harry said, turning away from the boy and starting to the school.

"Used to what?" He heard Draco call out to him. Harry threw a smile over his shoulder as he walked away.

"That we're friends, of course!" He called back, and turned away again before he could see the boy's reaction. The split second of realisation in the boy's eyes had been enough.

-o-o-

"Hey Harry." Ron mumbled when Harry stepped in to the Common Room. The boy was focused on yet another chess game with Seamus, whom either pityingly believed he could actually win or was a tragic masochist for failure. Hermione barely acknowledged him, but that was nothing new when her head was buried in a new book she'd procured from a bookshop down in Hogsmeade.

Harry threw himself in one of the vacant armchairs around the fire, tension coiled and feeling hyperaware of his hair for the first time in his life. 

Dean was sitting on the arm of Seamus's chair and Harry decided to spectate Seamus's failure since he missed it the last few times. He got up and sidled on to the arm next to Ron, whom barely acknowledged him as he ordered a castle across the board and smashed a bishop in to small ceramic pieces that almost went flying into Harry's eyes. He was instantly thrown back to First Year, but put away the thought immediately.

"I think your rook is open, mate." Harry whispered in Ron's ear.

"That's a bishop." Ron muttered back immediately. Harry sat back and decided to leave the game to Ron to win, and watched Dean whisper something in Seamus's ear, whom smiled a bit as if they weren't talking about chess at all. Dean's eyes flicked to his and he gave Harry a once over.

"You look different." Dean said, narrowing his eyes. Harry cringed, but that didn't stop attention being drawn to him immediately.

"Harry." He heard Hermione's indiscernible voice behind him, "You got a haircut." He couldn't deduce anything in the tone of her voice, and thought maybe she might have been put in Slytherin as well.

"Nice one, Harry." Seamus said with a grin, "Makes you look scary."

Harry's hands instinctively went to his head in shock, " _Scary?_ " He repeated in a horrified whisper. 

Seamus laughed, "It's not a bad thing, Harry. It's a good scary. The girls like that sort of thing." And Dean nodded in agreement. Ron was still engrossed in deciding where to direct his last rook, and took no notice of the conversation. Hermione, however… Harry could feel her gaze on the back of his neck so much he got goosebumps.

"It's attractive." Dean reassured him, "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, erm. Thanks guys." Harry mumbled, not used to being told he looked either scary or _attractive_.

"Harry." Hermione beckoned him over, and from the way she called he knew he had no choice. He slowly got up, momentarily forgetting how to move his limbs and made his way to her. He sat down on the floor just across the chair she was sitting in. He knew he was in for it when she snapped her book shut _and put it down_.

 _She knows!_ Harry's earlier confidence completely flew out the window, and he tried not to look too much like he had gastrointestinal issues as Hermione's gaze bore in to him.

"It's a nice haircut, Harry." Hermione said, her voice clean cut and well-annunciated. 

"Thank you, Hermione." Harry said, trying to smile but instead looking like he was grimacing. He felt like he was walking on eggshells around something neither wanted to admit first. Hermione looked at him not unlike the way Draco did when he was thinking about something.

_Stop thinking about him! She'll know!_

Even thought there was no possible way she would be able to. Judging from her gaze, however, Harry had the good mind to think she had found a way to crawl in to his mind and uncover all his secrets.

"Do you have something to tell me, Harry?" She asked once, and Harry knew she wouldn't ask again. Merlin, she was bloody _scary_.

"Er.." Harry mumbled, not knowing where to start. He looked back at Ron, whom was still involved in his game.

"Alright, then." Hermione surmised, "Let's start small. Where were you just now?"

"Me? Just, er, I went for a walk." Harry said.

"Mhm." Hermione tutted. She let the silence grow for a long time between them, and Harry started to fidget.

" _Fuck_. Fine, Hermione." He moved in closer and she leaned in the slightest bit.

"I was…" He cringed, the words stopping just before his teeth. "With Draco." He bit out, looking at his shoes. Hermione said nothing but exhaled a sharp intake of breath.

"Malfoy." He added, in case she didn't understand who he was talking about. He looked up when she said nothing and saw she had the same analytical look on her face.

"Well, I figured, but I didn't believe you two could do it." She said curtly.

Harry sputtered for a moment. "What?"

"Ron!" Hermione called out, and the boy's head immediately shot up to face her, "Come over here."

Ron immediately assessed the board, made one move, and at Seamus's cry of fury, said "Checkmate." and made his way to Harry and Hermione.

"What's wrong?" He asked nervously when he looked between the two of them. Seamus chucked his pieces in the air and stomped up to the Dormitory's. Dean stayed behind, picking up the pieces and shaking his head to himself with a small smile.

"It's Harry." Hermione said with a pointed look to Ron. Harry's scoff was lost between his two friends having a silent argument as if he weren't there. 

"He said it?" Ron asked, not even glancing at Harry. Hermione nodded and Ron rubbed his face. "Blimey."

"Er…What are you guys…" Harry trailed off.

"Right. Sorry, Harry. We'll start from the beginning, shall we?" Hermione smiled and Ron nodded his head next to her, surprisingly calm.

"Well, Harry. Ron and I have been observing you for a while now. Since the start of spring term, to be precise."

"What? But why would you-"

"Hush, Harry. Wait until I'm done." Hermione said, "It rather started when you asked Malfoy to the Ball. When school started up again after, you started disappearing during dinners, or Ron would wake up and you wouldn't be in your bed. You'd manage to slip away when we were otherwise occupied - don't think I didn't notice."

"Right." Harry said, dumbfounded.

"Indeed. Now it wasn't until Ron said to me one day-" She pauses and looks at him, "Would you like to tell Harry what it was you said to me?"

Ron nodded and looked at Harry uneasily, "Well, I was with Hermione one night while you'd disappeared again, and I was doing my Potions homework, you see. The one about that foul-smelling stuff? It was as awful to write about as it was to make, let alone explode-"

" _Ron_." Hermione warned, and he smiled at sheepishly.

"Er, right. Sorry. Then I started thinking about Potions for once - rather the class and not the homework - and I realised something felt off but, I couldn't tell what. Then I realised that it was Malfoy's snobby arse not in our faces all the time. I realised I hadn't seen much of him all the way since the Ball, and so I asked Hermione if she'd seen anything-"

"- And I also realised Malfoy had been oddly…unprovocative towards any of us since December. In fact, he seemed to be ignoring not only the three of us, but I never saw him have a go at anyone else in the school either. He's completely stopped being…Malfoy."

"So then I observed." She continued, "Its suspicious to say the least that he's become so…mild all of a sudden. Namely towards you. He's made it his mission to spite you since the first day you both met. That's why I was surprised that you of all people seemed…unaffected at his sudden change in behaviour."

"You didn't even notice." Ron piped up, "You also always looked more…relaxed at odd times when you did finally show up. I thought you were going barmy from the Tournament, to be quite honest…" Ron said, rubbing his neck sheepishly at Harry. Harry stared between his two friends, not knowing what to say and wanting to ask a million question all at once.

"So I stopped watching Malfoy, and I started watching you, Harry." Hermione said, "Of course, you had the Tournament so I couldn't fault you for being a little distracted and…odd at times, but something about you and Malfoy seemed off even back when you told us about the Ball. I could tell then that you weren't saying something, but I decided to let it go thinking it didn't matter since it was...well, Malfoy."

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, forgetting it was shorter than he was used to. "I did tell you guys everything, but…"

"It's fine, Harry. You can tell us at the end." Hermione said. "I eventually made the connection that something was going on and you two were involved. It was all circumstantial, of course." And Harry and Ron shared a look that Hermione glared at the two of them for and continued.

"It wasn't until Ron saw you and Malfoy communicating in a…civilised manner that I really believed it."

Ron nodded, "We were at breakfast, and you were gripping that bloody egg again like your life depended on it-" He stopped when Harry glared at him and he flushed. "Oh, er. Sorry. Right, well, you were holding that egg, and you weren't eating. You were kind of staring off in to space but then I saw you were mouthing something at someone. I didn't actually believe it was Malfoy at first, but he was looking right at you. And not in a bad, snobby sneer kind of way."

Harry felt the blush blooming on his cheeks. They were probably referring to the time while Harry'd been researching for something to keep him alive underwater, and one morning caught Draco's eyes looking between him and the egg inquiringly. 

_Nothing._ He mouthed at Draco, and the boy just nodded curtly, but his eyes were pitying.

"So, Harry. It seemed more than just talking happened that night of the Ball." Hermione said menacingly. "Care to explain?"

Harry's mouth flew open, but he managed to shut it closed again. "Shit. It's nothing like that, I swear!" Harry protested. He sighed and slapped his forehead. "Alright, look. That night, we talked about stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, er. Well we started fighting first, then I said some thing about his father, and he started on the mudbloods, blood-traitors bullshit again."

Ron swore.

"Yeah, I know." Harry said, "But I managed not to beat his bloody face in and held back for once. We were alone, you see, so I held back otherwise we'd have killed each other."

"Very smart choice, Harry." Hermione said approvingly, but Ron just scoffed.

"Thanks." Harry said, "So we were forced to yell at each other. But then his father came up, and apparently he doesn't actually tell Draco anything."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"Like…all the Death Eater stuff. He doesn't involve Draco. Even what he did in Second Year? With the diary? Draco never knew until that night when I told him."

"Blimey." Ron said, "So he really was a git for nothing, eh?"

Harry laughed, "Yeah, I guess. So I told him what his father had done, and he was…surprised to say the least."

"He must have been shaken." Hermione said.

"He was. It was the first time he looked…like a human being. He was scared. I almost didn't recognise him."

"And then what did he say?" Hermione asked.

Harry thought for a moment, remembering Draco telling him not to tell anyone what his fears had been about his family. "Well, he assured me that he had nothing to do with his father's past actions." And Ron scoffed, but Harry held out a hand, "No, Ron. Wait."

"He had never realised that people actually died for all the Blood Purity bullshit. To him, it was just another requirement taught to him growing up." Harry sighed, looking down at his feet rather than at his friend's faces. "But he said he didn't want anyone dead for all of it. Not really. And I believed him, but don't ask me why. I told him that most of what he said all the time was bullshit from his father."

Ron snorted, "You told him that? To his face?"

Harry grinned, "Yeah. It was bloody amazing. But he seemed to agree with me. He was different after. And then he…"

"What did he do?" Ron asked eagerly.

"Well it was rather what I did, really." Harry said, "I realised he really was telling the truth and he had no idea what his actions were capable of. So I asked him for a truce between us, and he agreed."

"A truce?" Ron asked incredulously, and Harry saw Hermione looking at him curiously.

"A truce for what, exactly?" She asked.

"Well, I told him he could never call anyone a mudblood again, or you a blood-traitor, Ron. In fact, I just told him to stop being a prick in general." Harry felt himself involuntarily smile a little, "And I guess he did."

"Wow." Ron said, "How did you manage to change a ponce like that, Harry?"

"I didn't _change_ anyone, Ron. I just knocked some sense in to him."

Ron scoffed, "I wish." He muttered.

"So then how does that explain both your…changes this term." Hermione asked.

Harry thought hard for a moment. He didn't know why, but he wanted to keep the parts about Draco proposing an exchange of information to himself. He knew both Ron and Hermione would immediately shoot it down and refuse it's continuation. It felt better if it was between him and Draco, for now. 

"I just liked the place where we initially talked. It was relaxing, so I wanted to keep going there. It seems he liked it too, though, so unfortunately we bump in to each other there sometimes."

"Where is it?" Ron asked, and Harry grinned.

"Not telling." He winked secretively, and Ron clenched his fists. "Sorry, Ron. I just can't." Harry said. He wanted to preserve the spot as much as he could, save for Draco's presence. It was the one place at Hogwarts where he could really get away. "So we'd bump in to each other there sometimes. Of course, we had to talk to each other at some point, so we did. Now we just talk a bit more like actual people. Since the truce, I didn't really have a reason to have anything against him unless he started with the bigotry bullshit again. He hasn't said anything like it since to me, though, so I've got no reason to hate him like I did before. I guess he's also trying, so he's not been bad to me either. He's not that bad when he's not being a prat, actually."

"Didn't know there was such a thing." Ron muttered, but Hermione elbowed him.

"Well I think it's a good change, Harry. You both put away your differences very maturely." She said.

"Really?" Harry gaped, "I thought you would both hate me actually. Maybe even check me for Imperius."

"You can throw off the Imperius." Hermione said, waving her hand away, "But I really don't mind if he's not bullying people or pushing his Pureblood agenda anymore. Neither does Ron. Right, Ron?" She said, nudging him. Ron nodded gruffly.

"Sure." He bit out, and Harry knew Hermione must have been intervened on his opinions somehow. Harry was surprised he wasn't blowing up the entire castle as he'd expected him to. Ever since their fight before the first task, Harry noticed Ron's temper had quelled a lot more. 

"But Harry," Hermione said, "You really could have told us."

"Could I have, though? It bizarre enough for me. Imagine me telling Ron that I was with Malfoy the whole night."

Ron groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"And you can trust him?" Hermione asked, eyes intense just like Sirius's earlier that day.

"Yes." Harry said. "I can trust him. He even apologised about the things he's done. To all of us." 

"Really?" Ron peaked through the fingers on his face.

Harry nodded, "Yeah. He's not so bad. Does his homework a lot, though."

Ron snorted, "You're telling me." He said, glancing at Hermione. He looked at Harry pleadingly, "This doesn't mean that we all have to be…bummy with him do we? I don't think I can handle being friends with the ferret, Harry."

Harry looked at Hermione, ignoring the absurdity of Ron calling Draco his _friend_. She shook her head and he looked back at Ron.

"No." Harry smiled. "I'd pay galleons to see it, but lets not for now. For both your sakes." Harry said, not talking about Ron and Hermione, but Ron and Draco. "Even I can barely stand him most of the time."

"Good." Ron deflated, and Hermione smiled at him warmly which he returned wholeheartedly. 

"I'm sorry for not telling you guys."

"It's alright, Harry." Hermione said approvingly, but with a look that meant they'd talk more about it later. She dug through her bookbag for some parchment quickly, "Now how much have you started on you Transfigurations essay?" She asked. He and Ron blanched and looked at each other.

"Come on, Hermione! It's a Hogsmeade day!" Ron whined, "Relax a little!"

"I did, Ron! Now I'm going to get some work done, and you both better too!" Hermione scolded.

Harry sat back, feeling a weight lifted off his chest as he let the sound of his friends bickering wash over him. He got up and stretched, then went upstairs with Ron trudging behind him to retrieve a fresh parchment to start his Transfigurations essay.

-o-o-

Snape seemed to have it in for Harry even more than usual, which he'd thought impossible but was unfortunately proven wrong.

"It would be a _shame_ if some Veritaserum were to find it's way in to your drink somehow, Mister Potter." 

Harry bit his tongue so hard he thought he might sever it from his mouth. Snape wouldn't really do that, would he? Wasn't it illegal? Harry grit his teeth and stared back at the man glowering down at him, letting his resentment bleed through his eyes in hopes it might drown the man. He felt Ron's hand grip his arm under the table warningly, sensing Harry's bubbling anger from the static magic simmering out of him.

Snape's eyes flashed maliciously, then he leaned in and whispered infuriatingly, "Think about that next time, _Potter_ , before you decide to raid my stores for Boomslang Skin and the precious _Gillyweed_ you used to thwart your way through that tournament."

Ice ran through Harry's skin when Snape mentioned the Gillyweed, and it took all of him not to furtively glance to the side where Draco was leant over his potion. Snape didn't wait for a reply, and swished off to torment Neville's explosive cauldron.

"Longbottom! Twenty points from Gryffindor for lacking any sort of common sense at all!" Snape barked.

Ron's grip loosened over his arm when Snape was gone, "Blimey, Harry." Ron muttered. "I wouldn't put it past him to actually slip you some one day."

Harry nodded gruffly, skin still prickling with excess magic in the air and trying desperately to keep in inside along with his anger. He continued chopping his ingredients, glancing at the textbook and realising he'd meant to be crushing them instead. He swore audibly, throwing down his knife and ignoring the niggling warning of Snape's nearby presence. 

Just then his eyes caught Draco, stooped over his cauldron and stirring but looking at Harry questioningly. Harry shrugged slightly, flicking his eyes to Snape quickly then making a show of rolling them. The corners of Draco's mouth twitched but he just nodded and continued with his potion.

"I'll never get used to that." Ron muttered next to him.

"What?" Harry said, turning to Ron whom was glancing at Draco as if he might explode like Neville's cauldron.

" _That._ " Ron reiterated, gesturing to him and Draco, "It's just weird. You guys aren't fighting or anything. Hell, Malfoy looks…not Malfoy." He sighed pityingly as if the entire world had turned upside down.

Harry crushed his new set of ingredients, adding them to the cauldron base. "I'm surprised you're being so calm about it. I thought you'd be angry. Might have even killed either of us." Harry said after a moment.

"I was angry." Ron admitted slowly, stirring the potion, "But luckily I had Hermione there, otherwise I might've killed Malfoy."

"Not me?" Harry said with a wry smile.

"It's not your fault if he'd done some sort of Dark Magic ritual on you or something like that." Ron said, smiling back. "But Hermione stopped me before I could go get you when we figured it out. I was almost about to use the map before you gave it to Moody."

"But you're really okay with it?" Harry asked cautiously, because he really hadn't been sure from before. His friends had accepted his and Draco's weird friendship so easily he almost looking for cracks on the surface.

"I still don't like him, Harry. I don't know if I'd ever even willingly spend time with him like you do."

"So why do you think I would?" Harry asked, confused because he couldn't figure out how Ron was okay with him and Draco even though he couldn't relate to their friendship.

"Because you're my best mate, and I know you, Harry." Ron nudged him with a shoulder playfully, "And you seem better after you talk to him. Even before the task, when you were close to murder over every bloody little thing, sometimes you'd come back from a 'walk' less twitchy and riled up. I don't notice a lot, but I know that was because of him." He scrunched up his nose distastefully, "I won't pretend I understand it, but if it works for you, it works for me."

Harry stood, gaping at Ron before the boy whacked him in the arm.

"Shut it." Ron said. "I do think for myself sometimes, you know."

Harry smirked, jostling Ron back with a shoulder, "And how much of that stuff you said was Hermione?" He asked.

"Not enough that I care to admit." Ron said, smiling to himself and chuckling. "But I believe all of it anyway." He patted Harry on the shoulder. "It's good you have someone else besides us."

"What do you mean?" Harry frowned.

"Not like that, you tosser. I mean I know that you get a little barmy being around me and Hermione all the time."

"I don't-"

"No, mate. It's okay. I understand. It's like being back at the Burrow." He siphoned their questionably coloured potion in to a vial, "I love my brothers and Ginny, and Mum and Dad," He said, "But living with them sometimes drives me up the bloody walls. Especially when Percy comes to visit. It doesn't mean I still don't love them - even Percy. I just can't be around them all the time." He put a stopper on the vial and held it out to Harry to carry to Snape's desk, where the man himself was looming. "So I get it. Okay?"

"Okay." Harry said, shocked beyond belief that Ron was being so…Hermione. Especially since their fight last term. It looked like he was genuinely trying to act more maturely since then, and Harry felt a rush of affection for his best friend. He took the vial, beaming more than he could restrain.

'You know I love you, right Ron?" Harry said jokingly, poking his friend in the side. Ron's eyes widened and he squirmed away with a sharp exhale.

"Bloody hell, you don't just say things like that, Harry." He muttered with a flush and looking around if anyone heard. 

"Sorry." Harry said, taking the vial and slapping Ron on the shoulder. The boy smiled at him ruefully anyway, which Harry understood as him saying it right back. He didn't quite understand why it was such a big deal, but Ron was always tetchy with the feelings stuff anyway. 

Then again, so was Harry. What was he turning in to? 

Fucking Triwizard Tournament.

"Potter! Weasley! Potion _today_ , if you will!" Snape barked from the front of the class, spurring Harry in to half-running to his desk. He heard Draco snigger behind him and Harry glared at him as he walked back to his table. As he passed between Snape's line of sight, Draco winked and sauntered out the class so quickly Harry questioned he even saw it happen.

"Bloody hell." Ron sighed next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As for a posting schedule, we have no posting schedule. I am a creature of spontaneity and sporadic bouts of writers block.
> 
> Thanks for reading you gremlins. Stay safe <3


	16. Wise words of a Black

The morning after Harry and Viktor Krum found Barty Crouch by the forbidden forest, Harry rushed down to the Lake during breakfast.

"Good. You're here." Harry said hurriedly, quickly starting to pace next to Draco.

"Morning." Draco said amusedly.

"Yeah." Harry waved him off, "I'm going to tell you something and you _cannot_ breathe a word of it to anyone else. Got it?"

Draco's eyebrows drew up in surprise, "Oh. Okay, yeah. I won't."

Harry stared at him for a moment, then nodded to himself. He then begun to tell Draco about the maze for the next task, how Viktor asked him to talk in private about something.

"Private?" Draco's eyes widened.

"Yes, but it doesn't matter." Harry continued to tell him about Barty Crouch emerging out of the forest, his obscure ramblings and finally retrieving Dumbledore to find Krum stunned and Crouch gone.

"But he couldn't have Disapparated out." Draco said thoughtfully.

"I know. It looks like he attacked Viktor then legged it." Harry stopped pacing. "If only I'd been faster to get Dumbledore."

"What? Harry, then what could you have done?" Draco said incredulously. 

"I could've done _something_."

"Not then. You're not invincible. It's not your job."

Harry grunted noncommittally, finally coming to sit down next to Draco.

"Why would he say those things? Why attack Viktor?" Harry ran his hands roughly through his short hair.

"It doesn't make sense." Draco replied, tapping his lip with his index finger repetitively, "He doesn't sound to have been in any shape to attack Krum at all, never mind make some grand escape from Hogwarts."

"Well what else then? He can't still be in the Forest."

"I know. It's all just extremely suspicious. Do you think this has to do with all the possible Death Eater plots?" He looked at Harry suddenly. "Do you think it was you who was meant to be attacked instead?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Probably." Harry sighed.

"Well then you should think about that before you go traipsing with foreign students at night, you pillock!" Draco exclaimed.

"It was just Viktor!"

"I don't give a toss! Don't trust him just because he's a good Quidditch player!"

"He's _fine_ , Draco. It's Karkaroff I'd really be worried about." Harry said, remembering the man gripping his left arm and talking in harsh hushed whispers to Snape during a Potions lesson.

"Wasn't he…one of them?" Harry asked.

"A Death Eater?" Draco said, "Yes he was. He was acquitted, though. Bit like my father." He spat the last part with bitter sort of venom in his voice.

"Hold on." Harry said, sitting up straighter, "Is Snape also…"

"Snape?" Draco repeated, thinking carefully. "It's a possibility. I never thought about it because he was so close to the Headmaster."

"So they would have the Mark?"

Draco nodded thoughtfully, "On the left forearm. Ugly thing, really."

"You've seen it?" Harry asked curiously.

"Mhm. Caught a look once when my father raised his cane at me and his sleeve rode up."

Harry's head whipped quickly to Draco, whom was flushing slightly and looking away from him to the Lake. Harry sagged a little, not quite knowing what to say but understanding nonetheless.

"I'm sorry." He said.

"It's okay. He never really hit me anyway."

Harry didn't reply. _That doesn't excuse that he did it,_ he thought, but decided to keep it to himself in case it agitated Draco even more.

"What does it look like?" He asked instead.

Draco tapped his finger to his lips again, a habit Harry'd noticed when the boy would sometimes think about how to phrase or do something before he did it. "Remember the Dark Mark in the sky? At the World Cup? Like that, but on your arm. It's black but it makes the skin around it look ugly and green." Draco said disdainfully.

"Right. Trust Voldemort not to know proper design elements of magical tattoos." Harry said ruefully. Draco snorted and crossed his arms around his knees, but the air still felt strained and tense.

"So the task?" He asked.

"What?"

"The task, Harry. Third one." Draco said dully.

"Oh! Right." He'd completely forgotten about the Quidditch pitch being turned in to a maze of grass hedges. He told Draco about it quickly, and the boy listened with a sharp focus Harry still found extremely unsettling.

"There'll probably be obstacles. Things that might kill you, knowing Dumbledore." Draco said afterwards.

"Yeah." Harry snorted. "This one's way better, at least. Just got to shoot a few spells and I'll be on my way." He leant back on his hands lazily. He suddenly felt the sting of a hex on his arm, "Ow!" He yelped.

Draco clicked his tongue next to him. "Shoot a few spells, my arse." He said, tucking his wand away. "Constant vigilance, Potter!" He pointed a finger at Harry, mimicking Moody's barking tone.

"Git." Harry muttered, rubbing his arm while Draco smiled slightly. "I'll have to learn some new spells."

"I'm sure Granger can help you with that."

"Ron too, Draco. He does exist, you know."

"Mhm. We'll see." Draco waved him off.

Harry shook his head, telling himself it wasn't allowed to seriously hex fellow students.

"I am worried, though." Draco said quietly after a moment.

"You're always worried," Harry snorted, but stopped when he saw Draco's serious glare.

"I'm serious, Harry. He said that the D- You-Know-Who was getting stronger. It's not a good sign." He fiddled with his wand between his fingers nervously, an act that would've put Harry on edge if it were months before. "Not a good sign at all."

"I know." Harry said gravely, understanding the sense of impending chaos that the words of Barty Crouch came with, "He looked the most sane when he said it. I could tell it was real. _Damn_. I wish I knew what happened."

"Me too. Just...be patient." Draco assured him, but even he didn't sound convinced. 

Harry sighed deeply. "Constant vigilance." He muttered, closing his eyes.

"And no more going out alone. Stick with Granger and Weasley outside of classes." Draco said imperatively, eyebrows drawn together in worry. "In fact, stop coming down here as well. It's just too risky."

"What?" Harry erupted, "That's not fair!"

"I don't _care_. You can't really be that _daft_ , Potter." Draco hissed, suddenly reminding Harry of the bitter, spoilt boy he'd known from the years before. "You're in _danger_. You're a _target_."

"You can't tell me what to do, Draco." Harry said hotly, clenching his fists in his lap. Draco's laid back posture didn't change, but his face was tightly lipped and cold.

"As I said before, Potter, I don't care. I don't care if you can't seem to realise that you're not invincible. It's too dangerous to be careless, and you should have known better - especially with me. Stay away from the bloody Lake, or so help me I will hex you until you can't walk straight."

Draco stood up challengingly and Harry mirrored him, his wand in his hand before he knew it. His eyes flicked to Draco's hands which were still wandless, but his face told Harry that he wasn't making an empty threat. A shiver went down Harry's spine at the pure ice he saw in Draco's grey eyes, and it made his stomach drop uncomfortably. 

"Fine." Harry spat, pocketing his wand. " _Fuck. Fine!_ "

Draco's shoulders loosened slightly. "Good." He said, his face just a fraction softer. 

"Fuck you." Harry hissed, angry for some reason he didn't care to analyse. Who was Draco to dictate where he should go? He could protect himself. Hadn't he been doing so for the last three years?

"Fine." Draco said resignedly, face indifferent and eyes closed off. "Just go." He turned away from Harry, and it only made him angrier that he was being brushed off so easily.

Harry swore and marched off without a second glance, face burning and fists aching from how tight he was holding them. Fuck the Lake. Fuck the Triwizard Tournament. Fuck Draco Malfoy.

_Damn it all to hell_ , he thought.

-o-o-

Before Sirius's letter had arrived, Harry had never felt the need to _Incendio_ a letter in front of the entire Great Hall in his life.

He was now seriously considering it.

The letter was almost a complete copycat of the words Draco had said to him the day before.

_Dear Harry,_

_What do you think you're up to walking around the Forbidden Forest after hours, let alone at all? Are you daft? I explicitly told you to be careful, and this is not at all what I had in my mind. In fact, it is the complete opposite! Being led by a fellow competitor, at that! You can be too trusting sometimes, Harry, but now is not the time to be like that. From now on you'll be on your guard at all times. I don't advise you to venture out on the grounds at all until further notice. Stay with Ron and Hermione as much as possible, and try to stop seeing that Malfoy boy as well. He may not be a threat, but he may bring it with him anyway._

_I really don't mean to be a mother hen, Harry, but I would be there with you at the second if I could. I'm worried that even Dumbledore has yet to find out what sort of foul play is at work in Hogwarts. Just know I come from a place of worry and care, and I want nothing more than your safety. I would do anything to keep alive what your parents left inside of you._

_Remember what I said!_

_Snuffles_

"Oh, Harry. He has a point." Hermione said, reading over his shoulder.

"I know." He replied through gritted teeth, trying not to scrunch up the parchment in his hands. Why didn't anyone trust him to protect himself?

"Me and Ron will be with you if you need anything, Harry. And no more…walks." She said apologetically, but with an air of there being no room for argument.

"It doesn't matter." Harry bit out, glancing at Draco across the Hall whom was engrossed in a book and laying in to a croissant even Harry could tell was over-buttered.

"Did you and Malfoy fight or something?" Ron asked carefully. Harry drew his eyes away from Draco and nodded, looking down at his plate. Both his friends said nothing for a while, and he focused on pushing his food around, having picked things up he didn't even like but wanting it to look like he was eating anyway. 

"Snuffles means well, Harry." Hermione said, laying a hand on his shoulder that took all of him not to brush off immediately. "He's doing it because he cares."

Harry sighed, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes tiredly. His anger dissipated when he remembered Sirius living off of rats in a cave in Hogsmeade, just to be closer to him. He felt a tug at longing of what could have been if his Godfather had been found innocent. He looked across the Hall again, seeing Draco arguing about something with his friend Pansy, hands waving in the air and a spew of expletives Harry could tell coming out of his mouth. Harry almost smiled, but didn't have the energy to.

"I know." He said quietly, but Ron and Hermione heard him anyway. "I'll stay inside."

"Good man." Ron said cheerfully, slapping him on the back.

"It's a good opportunity to practice some spells for the next task." Hermione said, already pulling out a book from her seemingly endless bag.

But Harry wasn't listening. He felt a small uncomfortable niggle of shame in the pit of his stomach. 

Above all things, he needed to apologise to Draco.

-o-o-

For once, Harry had a plan. He'd thought of it himself and everything.

The plan relied on several things, First of all, he kept his promise and stopped going outside at all. He went from classes at the end of the day straight to the Common Room with Ron and Hermione. This meant he only saw Draco a few times a day, sometimes even just once in class expelling mealtimes. He didn't have very favourable odds of the plan working out because of that, but he ignored the fact dutifully. At least he had a plan, right?

Second of all, half the work was up to Draco himself. Harry just hoped the boy had practiced some Quidditch over the summer. For once, Harry needed the boys Seeker reflexes to be as good as possible.

So Harry wrote a short apology on a square a parchment, which he folded carefully in to a tight triangle, edges sharp pointy. He kept it with him for the next few days, waiting for his chance when Draco would be alone or he'd have the best odds of getting it to him without anyone noticing.

On an especially stuffy day, the Potions classroom was stifling and even Snape couldn't seem to handle the heat. The man was billowing his robes much more than usual, and nobody missed the sheen of sweat on his brow which he tried to wipe away surreptitiously from time to time. 

"Longbottom! Finnigan! Hogwarts spends more on cauldrons for you twats than on then entire faculty payroll!" Snape snapped, but even that felt weak.

Most of the students had discarded their robes for the lesson, and were leant over their potions that gave no help in dispelling the heat. Harry puffed his shirt out to air it out and quickly rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. It was Ron's turn to stir the potion, and the boy was almost wheezing over the cauldron.

"Too damn hot." Ron gasped, fanning himself.

"Yeah." Harry said absentmindedly, busy looking at Draco across the room whom looked infuriatingly comfortable and not-sweaty despite the circumstances, the only proof he was affected by the heat being his Slytherin robes draped gently over the side of his table. He was focused intently on his potion, looking between the cauldron and his textbook, tracing the lines of the page then tapping his lips rhythmically.

Snape was busy shouting at Seamus and Neville at the back, and everyone was too hot to be casually attentive, so Harry took his chance. 

He glanced to where Ron was almost dozing off, chin on his hand as he waited for the potion to simmer on low heat. Harry slowly withdrew the note from his robe and held it deftly between his index and middle finger, sort of like a ninja star he'd seen being thrown around on Dudley's television show once.

He braced himself and took a quick breath. He needed to be quick if no one saw. Too slow, and it would catch someone's eye. 

He glanced around one more time, then hissed, " _Malfoy!_ "

The boy whipped his head to Harry in confusion, and Harry didn't wait. He raised his hand as quick as he could and flicked the note to Draco, whom thankfully caught it in his chest within a second with reflexes Harry had played against in Quidditch games for years.

He quickly looked away, not wanting to see Draco open it, even if he did. It wasn't much, just a short note he probably should have spent more time on, but hadn't known what to say when it came down to it.

_Sorry. I overreacted. You had a point. Or two._

_H_

Nudging Ron awake, he quickly immersed himself in their potion without looking at Draco for the rest of the lesson. 

"Potter. Weasley. Another zero. Abysmal." Snape sneered when he walked by their cauldron. Harry barely heard, his pulse seeming way too loud for it to be heard as blood rushing in his ears. 

He heard a snort from where Draco was. He didn't look, but something warm settled in his stomach at the sound.


	17. Draco is a nice Slytherin

Just before everyone had filed out of their Potions class, Draco quickly took out the triangle note Harry had thrown and scribbled something on the back. He folded it up as best he could in to the neat little shape it was, then tried his best to catch Harry's eye.

The pillock wasn't looking at him. Not just that, but he was purposely _trying_ not to look at him.

_Idiot! Why do I try?_ Draco thought. Harry was way too much work than he was worth.

He finally saw Harry and Weasley sling their bags over their shoulders, and luckily they had to walk out the class by turning their bodies towards Draco's direction first. Harry was focused on laughing at something the weasel said. Good. Hopefully the paper hit him in the face.

Draco aimed, note between his fingers, then threw. The note whipped through the air aerodynamically, so fast he almost lost sight of it's path. Harry's arm immediately shot out to catch it, not even having to have looked at it first, to Draco's dismay. He should have expected it from the best Seeker in the school besides him, but it still stung his pride anyway. 

Harry's eyes shot up to his in surprise, and Draco raised an eyebrow. Without a word, he picked up his bag and left the class in front of Harry and Weasley without looking back.

"What are you two on about?" Weasley asked almost exasperatedly before Draco left the room. He didn’t wait to hear Harry's reply, quickly walking to Charms with his chest feeling oddly tight.

-o-o-

_The sooner you learn I'm always right, the less you'll end up embarrassing yourself like that, Potter._

_You're forgiven (most generously)._

_Remember to practice spells both offensive and defensive. Maybe practice some basic dueling. It's not hard. Just do the complete opposite of what you did in second year._

_Cheers, Potty._

_(No Parseltongue!)_

_DM_

-o-o-

The day after, he passed Harry in the corridor while on the way to Transfigurations. He was backed by Granger and Weasley, whom barely spared a glance at Draco as they passed.

Within a second, a sharp white object appeared in the corner of his eye and his hand immediately shot out to catch it.

Another triangle note was in his hand.

He continued walking as if nothing happened. Harry's friends seemed none the wiser, but Draco managed to catch the boy's fleeting green eyes when he looked back. He nodded curtly and they went on their way.

_It seems I recall you having used a dark magic spell to conjure a snake in our Second Year. I also seem to recall the duel having to be to disarm your opponent, not maim or inflict venomous serpent bites on. We were twelve, Draco._

_The snake was not pleased, for your information._

_Hermione's got me practicing a few new spells every day now. No news on Crouch. The task is in a few weeks. If you hear anything, let me know._

_My regards to Lolligo (be that he exists),_

_HP_

_(Do you know how much your snake trick made my life hell in Second Year? It's your fault I thought you were the Heir of Slytherin.)_

-o-o-

Draco passed his next reply during Care of Magical Creatures, a class he still hated not just because of Hagrid but because he genuinely hated those blasted Blast-ended-skrewts.

_Heir of Slytherin? Potter, I may be the model student of Slytherin, come from a prestigious lineage of Slytherins, and have _concerningly_ extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts, but does that really say that much about me?_

_Unfortunately, I am not the Heir of Slytherin. It surprised me as much as you, if it's any worth._

_And it's not my fault the snake was pissed. I wasn't the one that bloody started hissing at it. I really knew you were touched in the head after that, by the way. Even I was freaked out. Maybe you can defeat You-know-who with a legion of snakes at your beck and call. That'd be the day._

_Please burn this after you've read it. Burn all of them, at that. This isn't safe at all, but of course we're doing it anyway._

_Practice some locator charms. It is a maze after all. Think they'd let you summon your broom again? Just bloody fly to the center! Ha ha! Fuck you Dumbledore! Harry beat your little death trap!_

_Lolligo is doing splendidly. Especially without you there._

_DM_

-o-o-

Draco was sitting on the windowsill in one of the high towers of Hogwarts, his parchment and books laid out around him that he was dutifully ignoring in favour of staring at the transfigured Quidditch pitch.

He'd been sitting there for majority of the afternoon, unable to be in his spot by the Lake because of the dreary weather much too soggy for a day in march. 

The grass hedges were now well on their way to being as tall as Hagrid himself, and Draco knew they would only get taller before the task. He looked over the same areas and spots in the hedges as for the last hour. The hedges were made of a distinct ivy like plant that was characteristically fast-growing and strong. Draco had finally found something similar to how it looked in a Herbology textbook, and found out they were from the _Sepe Densissima_ family. He tried to look for any loopholes that might help Harry, but the hedges were practically impenetrable when fully grown, both physically and magically. The textbook barely even said how they could be grown, so Merlin knows how the school procured some so easily.

Must be that illicit oaf, Hagrid. The man would breed a Basilisk in his little hut if he had the chance. 

Draco saw a flash of blonde between the hedges and he leant closer to the window immediately, his breath fogging up the glass in front of him. There was someone in the maze, and not just on the outside, but all the way towards the middle. The only person who should have been there was Hagrid, or even Professor Sprout. It was made clear to the students that absolutely no one was allowed near the Pitch.

But the person in the maze couldn't have been a student. This person was tall, a hair a dirty blonde colour. It could have been a man.

Another flash of colour. Blue robes. A crooked gait. A heavy, rough limp.

Professor Moody.

Moody was making his way through the grass pathways, head turning occasionally.

As if looking to see if anyone was around.

Draco sat up on his knees, letting the book in his lap fall away to the ground. He pressed his hands to the glass, getting as close as he could to garner any sort of view better than the one he had.

Moody disappeared behind one of the hedges, but he was very close to the center. Why would Moody be there? Was someone else attacking? Were they hiding in the maze?

The man appeared again, now in the square center. He stood there for a few moments, and Draco held his breath. Moody cast a few spells, but his actions were relaxed. Not necessarily careless, but trivial and unurgent. Draco knew Moody was ever suspicious and attentive, so if there was really a threat he wouldn't be standing in place like that.

Meaning there were no threats in the maze. It was just Moody.

Moody walked around the square some more, almost assessing it. Measuring it. What on earth for? Draco concluded Moody wasn't supposed to be there at all, so he watched closely with his heart racing. 

Soon, the man cast a few more spells Draco didn't recognise. He looked around once more, then started out the maze again, following the jutting paths fluidly without hesitation.

The sun was dipping just halfway in to the horizon. The maze's green hedges looked dark blue In the low evening light, and the flash of blonde became more prominent. Draco sat on his haunches, waiting for Moody in case he did anything else. 

But the man only left the entrance of the maze with a deep swig of his flask. _Were teachers even allowed to drink during school?_ The ease at which the man made it out the maze put Draco slightly on edge. It was as if he'd done it before. Or many times before.

Draco shivered, and quickly packed up his stuff to go back to the Common Room where a couch by the fireplace had his name on it. He had much to think about.

-o-o-

"Alastor Moody?" Blaise pondered for a moment. They were both sitting in front of the fire, Draco in the same chair he'd envisioned during the walk there. It was just them and a few others, Pansy having gone to bed not long before. "There's not much anything else to him except going a little mad from being an Auror. He's apparently good one too - or was. He could be round the bend by now. He really doesn't seem right anymore, to be honest."

Draco sagged. He'd been hoping Blaise knew something, the boy being scarily good at knowing anything about anyone. It wasn't just gossip, but pure facts. It might have been some sort of wicked gene passed on from his mother, or the biological father that was long gone by then. Blaise just had a knack for knowing everybody's business, not unlike Pansy but much more reliable than the barmy she talked about.

"Nothing else? Nothing suspicious?" Draco pressed on. He tapped his index finger impatiently. There was something more, something he was missing. He could tell he knew it but couldn't seem to recall.

"Draco, why does it matter to you?" Blaise sighed.

"There's something off about him, Blaise. I can feel it. I saw him lurking around the Quidditch Pitch - which is off-limits to everyone _including_ the teachers. He doesn't feel right."

"But Draco…" Blaise sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck, "This isn't just because the ferret thing is it?"

Draco couldn't help but shudder. He was still avoiding Crabbe and Goyle ever since being transfigured in to that elusive _rodent_. The survival of their companionship withered away as soon as Draco got stuffed down Crabbe's trousers in the form of a glorified rat. He didn't want to admit it, but he still had trouble looking either in the eyes. There are some things you just can't unsee, and Draco had seen them.

"It's not _that_." Draco said a little too quickly. "Other than that. He just rubs me the wrong way. Ever since that thing with Crouch-" He cut himself off quickly, eyes widening but not looking at Blaise.

"What about Crouch?" Blaise asked, leaning forward interestedly, "Bartemius Crouch?"

"Er…" Draco cursed himself. He was starting to blubber like Harry. "I can't really say."

"Right." Blaise said slowly, clearly unconvinced, "Well it can only really be good ole' Barty." He shrugged.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, leaning in. Blaise leant back in his chair, crossing his arms over his head.

"Well his son of course." He said as if it was as common as casting a Lumos.

"He has a son?"

" _Had_ a son. He died a while ago."

"Oh…I didn't know that." Draco said. "How come nobody talks about it?"

"Because not even Barty talks about it." Blaise leant forward and spoke quietly even though nobody could have been listening, "His son was a Death Eater."

Draco's eyes widened, "Barty Crouch's son? But he's the Head of the DMLE!" He whispered harshly.

"Exactly why he doesn't talk about it! Apparently cut ties with his son during the First War when he was convicted. Even testified against him in the Wizengamot."

Draco's blood chilled, remembering that his father must have been trialed around the same time, only having gotten off scot-free.

"Against his own son?"

Blaise nodded gravely, "Got him sent all the way to Azkaban. Granted it _was_ deserved, the man was a loon for the Dark Lord. His wife never recovered after her son left either, and she kicked it not long after Barty did while he was in Azkaban. She went mad before that, though, so he technically lost them both at once."

"Shit." Draco blew out a sharp breath. "He's kept it well under wraps."

Blaise shrugged simply, "The life of a Ministry man." 

"Right." Draco said, just managing to keep the bitterness out of his voice. His father was a Ministry man as well, and he seemed to be doing the same thing as Crouch; burying his shady past away where everyone would also rather forget it. It suddenly became strange to him how his father was even still at the Ministry. Wasn't having been a Death Eater at all not caused any alarm? How could people move on so easily?

"Just stop worrying, Draco. That Potter's influencing you a little too much." Blaise patted his shoulder.

"What? This isn't because of _Potter_." Draco sputtered, "It's based upon my _own_ conclusions, which by the way Potter would _never_ be able to come to with his miniscule brain."

"Fine." Blaise said, smiling knowingly, "As long as you don't go traipsing in to danger like a Gryffindor, the Slytherin will survive in you yet."

"I'll have you _know_ , Blaise, that I am the embodiment of Slytherin. Some may have even mistaken me for the Heir of Slytherin himself!" Draco said proudly, crossing his arms defiantly.

"That's barmy." Blaise scoffed, but at Draco's expression his eyes widened. 

"It's true. I don't _lie_ , Blaise."

"Who on earth would-"

"None other than our Chosen One!" Draco puffed his chest out.

"Potter? He told you?"

Draco nodded, extremely pleased. "He thought it was _me_ in Second Year that was opening the Chamber of Secrets. Can you imagine?" He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. "I wonder what other think about me! I could use this, Blaise! Do you think if I start hissing at snakes the other Slytherins will start bowing to me? Think of the threats I could make!"

"You're already pretty threatening to the rest of Slytherin, Draco. You might just end up petrifying a First Year, if anything. Everyone thinking you're also the Heir of Slytherin won't be gaining you any favours."

"Oh _please_." Draco scoffed, "I'm not that scary, and besides, if I am it's only because of my family's reputation."

"That's far enough." Blaise chuckled, "You're also not necessarily very welcoming, either."

"What? Of course I am!" Draco protested. He quickly turned to some Third Year's nearby hovering over their books. 

"You lot!" Draco barked, and they both jumped like kneazles thrown in cold water. "Am I nice?" He demanded, crossing his arms. The Third Years nodded quickly, and Draco turned to Blaise triumphantly. "See?"

Blaise shook his head, smiling wanly. "Sure, Draco. The fact of the matter is you don't need to be the heir of Slytherin to be scary. If you haven't noticed, up until a few months ago you've been more of an arsehole than you are now. All I'm saying is you could be a little nicer. The Slytherins are scared of you, end of story."

" _Nicer?_ " Draco gaped. "Why on earth would I do that?"

" _Because_ , Draco, things are changing. This thing with you and Potter is changing things."

"Me and Potter? We barely see each other. I don't see how he's affecting the Slytherins."

"Ever since you and Potter had that ruddy truce, you haven't been the same-"

"That was because I realised my father was a bloody-"

"Shut it for a moment, Draco. You have to admit he's changed things. It's just a fact. One of those things is you, it seems. I can't explain it, but you're different now and people are noticing."

"Noticing how?" Draco asked carefully.

"Well…you've stopped with all the Pureblood stuff, you know?" Blaise said sheepishly, "You don't bully muggleborns or anything like that anymore. You've gone quiet and its not gone unnoticed within our House."

"What business is it theirs?" Draco asked.

"It's not, but they will wonder. Maybe they'll think you've gone weak."

"Bloody hell." Draco swore, pinching the bridge of his nose. He hadn't thought of all that before. Spending so much time by the Lake and with Harry made him forget just how political Slytherin House was. "I need to fix things." He looked up at Blaise, "What do I do?"

Blaise thought for a moment. "Depends." He said, "Do you want to keep the scary Malfoy Heir act up, or do you want to keep going wherever it is you're going, and start changing how people see you."

"What's better?" Draco asked, weighing his options in his head.

"Personally?" Blaise said, leaning in, "The latter. I honestly believe you haven't been the same since that night. Everything's changed since then."

Draco scoffed, "Not everything, surely."

Blaise shrugged, eyes glazed over in thought about something and staring in to space, "Feels like everything. If only you hadn't been such a dick all these years, Potter may have become friends with you sooner."

Draco shook his head. "I don't think so. I was too naïve. I didn't know then what I know now." He said quietly.

"And what's that." Blaise asked patiently.

"I lived in a bubble my parents had created. I accepted those ideologies my father taught me despite knowing from the world around me they just weren't true anymore."

"You were just a kid, Draco. It's not your fault. He manipulated you."

"And he's paying for it now." Draco looked at Blaise squarely, determination burning in his eyes. "I know what I want for the first time in my life, and its every antithesis to everything my father is." He didn't realise until then he was shaking, anger welling up inside him almost instantly he was surprised he hadn't noticed it before. "Harry will help me with that. He'll help me destroy what my father's existence rides on, and he'll pay for his mistakes."

"Draco." Blaise rushed, looking worried and cautious, "It's not your job-"

Draco grabbed Blaise's arm and pulled him close, whispering harshly, "Then whose is it, Blaise? It's my responsibility. I'm the only one who _can_. I'm his _son_ , and I'll be damned if anyone sets my father to rights before me. It's my name now, not his, and I'll save it if it means ridding myself of his legacy."

"Okay, Draco. Just calm down, alright?" Blaise said shakily. They stared at each other for a few moments before Blaise gestured to Draco's grip on his arm and he quickly let go.

"Sorry." He muttered, turning away.

"It's fine." Blaise said flatly, "I've just never seen you so…"

"I know." Draco said apologetically, "I'm sorry. I don't know what's gotten in to me." He pressed on his temples tiredly, massaging them in slow circles. He probably just needed some sleep. It was probably late. Maybe by morning, the anger might have gone away…

"I'll think about the being nice thing." Draco said, suddenly extremely tired, "I'll sleep on it, and tomorrow I'll solve it. I'll be better." He couldn't start slacking in his own House. "Sorry Blaise. Thank you for letting me know."

"I didn't say it because-"

"I said _Thank you._ " Draco said sharply, rising off the chair. "Let's go to bed." He beckoned Blaise up and waited for the boy before walking to their dormitory together in silence.

When both had gotten under the covers, careful not to make any noise above the hushed sounds of their sleeping dormmates, Draco heard Blaise whisper lowly so he barely just heard him.

"I like you better like this. After that night."

Draco let Blaise's words fall around him as he sunk in to a dark sleep.

"I like it too." He whispered back, just before succumbing to the darkness.


	18. Strings

_Moody? I don't know, Draco. He's acted fine to me all this time. He's a bloody Auror. He'd be the last I suspected of doing anything dodgy._

_Perhaps he was just setting up some sort of wards for the task. Dumbledore must have told him to, being the Defense teacher and all. It'll be fine._

_I'm not sure if you've heard, but god knows you have by now. I had another one of those dreams about Voldemort again. The painful scar ones. God it hurt so much. I thought my head my split open all over the floor._

_Unfortunately, it was while I'd fallen asleep in Trelawney's barmy class. I started screaming and everything, and everyone saw. I don't know how, but its gotten all the way to Skeeter and now I'm in the Prophet starring as some sort of mentally unstable weirdo._

_Save me any comments on the subject. I'm bloody annoyed and people are looking at me weird. It's like second year all over again, except without the giant snakes and Voldemort's incarnate._

_The dream was weird. I was sort of riding on an owl at first - or I was the owl. Doesn't matter. I flew on the owl along a passageway to a room with boarded up windows. I left the owl’s back, and saw a large snake and Wormtail laying on the floor. There was someone in a chair that tortured Wormtail with the Cruciatus Curse, saying something about 'his blunder hadn’t ruined everything after all'. When Ron woke me up, I managed to leave and went straight to Dumbledore's office._

_I'm around 89% sure the person in the chair was Voldemort, but I'm taking suggestions if you'd like to take a crack at it._

_Believe it or not, while I was in Dumbledore's office, I found out the same stuff you told me in your last letter about Crouch and his son. The very same amount of information, actually. It's quite scary. Where on earth did you hear it all? It's not exactly word of mouth stuff._

_Bloody Slytherins._

_On another note, the last task is next week. I'm fairly sure I'm prepared, but I mostly just want to get this tournament over with. Whether I actually win, I don't really care. It would be nice, though, but I don't need the gold._

_See you,_

_HP_

Draco folded up the note quickly, letting go of it and pressing the bridge of his nose with a sigh. A dream about You-know-who? It was safe to assume they weren't even dreams anymore. What was he planning? Using Wormtail as a servant, but he failed to do something. A 'blunder' as the voice had called it…

"Lover's spat?" Blaise said from beside him.

Draco sighed, not bothering to open his eyes. 

"Don't even start." He bit out, but was only met with a chuckle. Did anyone take him seriously anymore? He was reconsidering his decision to go ahead and build himself a new reputation out of mutual respect rather than fear. It was Blaise's idea, of course, but now he had to _mingle_ and smile at people. Disgusting.

"This Potter business is causing you too much stress, Draco." Pansy said on his other side.

"Who said this has _anything_ to do with Potter?" Draco said exasperatedly. 

"It _always_ has something to do with Potter!" Blaise shot back.

"Both of you need to mind your bloody - Pansy, for Merlin's sake, the root of Asphodel is not _purple_ , you daft bint." Draco chastised, pulling her parchment towards himself and reading it. "How can someone be so bad at _Herbology theory._ It is _literally_ drawing and labelling a bloody plant."

"Oh don't change the subject!" She said, snatching her parchment away and rubbing something out on it, "I've tolerated your little tryst with that blundering Gryffindor idiot all this time, but now it's getting annoying when you're so stressed about him all the time."

"You've barely tolerated anything, and I'll have you know that end of year exams are coming up, and I have the right _mind_ to be stressed about them. That at least goes for _one_ of us." He said pointedly, glaring at her. He put the note in his robe pocket, not trusting Blaise to not try to read it.

"How is Potter, by the way." Blaise said casually.

"He's fine." Draco said dully, finishing his sketch of an Asphodel and adding odd lines here and there for no apparent reason.

"I'd say he's less than fine." Pansy said with a snigger. "The boy's a loon! Did you read the Prophet?"

"I don't touch that rag unless it's to wipe my arse, Pansy."

"Oh don't be so crass. It doesn't matter if you didn't, everybody knows by now. He had one of those fits in Trelawney's class the other day. Does he tell you about them?" She asked, leaning in with eyes like a hawk's gaze on its prey.

"No, we mostly talk about the weather so we don't have the time." Draco said flatly, and Pansy harumphed in response.

"Lay off him, Pans. He won't say anything." Blaise said, talking across him to Pansy as if he weren't there.

Draco swore under his breath, "Fuck. I'm fine, Potter's fine. We're all fine! Nothing wrong with us! And he's not a loon, Pansy. You'd know if you could recognise genuine journalism for once." He spat.

Pansy flushed immediately and looked down angrily, and Blaise whistled next to him.

"Arse." She muttered.

"Bitch." He shot back.

"Bloody hell! Draco, shut up. Pansy, shut _up_." Blaise exclaimed. "Honestly, you're both hormonal."

"What did I say about derogatory phrases against women, Blaise." Pansy said warningly. 

"Alright, sorry." Blaise threw his hands up in surrender and Pansy's scowl faded. Draco shot him a heavy glare anyway, wishing it would crush the boy beneath his gaze.

"Chirpy lot, you are then." Greeted Theo Nott, sidling up to their table. "Can I see your sketches if you're done? I think my plant was sat on or something."

Both and Pansy and Blaise's heads turned to Draco, so he drew in a sharp breath and handed his parchment to Theo, praying for patience. 

"This is good." Theo muttered as he looked between their parchments and made adjustments. Draco saw Blaise gesturing out of the corner of his eyes, and side-eyed him.

 _Be nice_ , the boy mouthed, gesturing to Theo. Draco sighed again, closing his eyes for a moment, before replying curtly, "Thank you." 

Theo's eyes shot up to his for a moment before looking back at his sketching with a small smile. "No problem." He said. It was weird to Draco how genuine it seemed. He expected to be nice to people (or some resemblance of), but didn't expect it back.

"How's Parvati, Theo?" Blaise said sweetly, and Theo looked up nervously.

"She's…er, fine. We're both good." He stammered, looking down at his parchment and not making eye contact, obviously not recovered from his encounter with Blaise earlier that year.

"That's good then." Blaise remarked, regarding him with a raised eyebrow. 

"Y…Yeah."

"I can't believe you're snogging a _Gryffindor_." Said Pansy. "It's a disgrace to this house, it is."

"Oh come off it, Pans." Blaise said, "They really like each other. Right, Theo? Can't put a label on _love._ "

Draco saw Theo physically shudder at the words, and just barely managed to suppress his own shiver. Trust Blaise to use the one Bad Word in Slytherin.

"It's not like…like that…" Theo mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh? My apologies then." Blaise answered back, looking extremely pleased with himself. It was obvious he hadn't quite forgiven Theo for the hairclip quarrel. 

Pansy clicked her tongue next to them, adding another wrong shaped leaf to her diagram. 

"Well, I'll see you three later then." Theo said quickly, rolling up his parchment and turning away with a sparse glance between all of them. 

"Sweet boy." Draco remarked, quirking an eyebrow at Blaise. The boy's eyes followed Theo as he went.

"Isn't he." Blaise said thoughtfully. "Too sweet for his own good."

"Both of you are idiots." Pansy chimed in next to them.

"Don't be jealous, Pansy. It doesn't look good on a woman." Draco said mock-seriously, and just managed to dodge the elbow she threw his way. "So violent! What will your husband say?" He laughed.

"He'll know not to speak without my permission." Pansy shot back.

"Women scare me." Blaise muttered to Draco quietly, and he barely suppressed a snigger lest the woman in question decided to bring hell on earth.

-o-o-

"Draco." A voice said.

Draco froze, hand on his wand. He slowly looked up. As far as he knew, he was alone. Unless he was seriously ill, or confunded, or going insane, or all three, a disembodied voice really just said his name.

Not just any voice. Harry Potter's voice. Was he finally losing it? Hearing the Chosen One's voice by a Lake infested with one too many giant squids? He knew he shouldn't gone in to that one room in the Manor when he was six years old. Nothing happened then, but maybe it was locked for a reason. Maybe he was cursed…

Draco sighed resignedly. Maybe he was cursed in a different way. "Harry if you're really there, I'm giving you six seconds to show yourself before I start hexing in every direction."

"Shit." Harry unveiled himself like a cloth of the horizon being torn off him. The Invisibility Cloak, Draco assumed. "I was going to wait and see how long you'd last." The boy said sadly.

"I'm not an idiot. I wouldn't just wait for someone to curse me. Now what are you doing here?" Draco said impatiently.

"Tomorrow's the task." 

"I know." Draco said dully, as if he or anyone else in the school didn't know. Harry stuffed the Cloak somewhere in his robes and sat down next to Draco with a sigh.

"I just wanted to come here before tomorrow."

"But you're not-"

"I know." Harry said. "It'll be fine. If they really want to attack me, they'll do it tomorrow if anything."

Draco shut his eyes. That's exactly what he was afraid of. Nothing about the tournament seemed right.

"So now what." Draco said.

"It's late. Why are you here?"

"Same as you, I presume." Draco said levelly. When he saw Harry's expression, he rolled his eyes and continued, "Not exactly the same, you prat. It's just, the task tomorrow…"

"What about it?" Harry asked, looking at him confusedly as if he had no idea Draco would be concerned about it.

"It's just…I'm…" Draco went on, not knowing how to explain his apprehension. "Anything could happen tomorrow." He kept his eyes on the Lake.

"It'll be fine. Maybe I can win, too, huh?" Harry nudged him playfully, but Draco didn't react.

"I'm…" He said, feeling something catch in his throat. What did he want to say? Why couldn't he say it if he knew? "I'm just…"

"Worried?" Harry suggested. Draco looked at him, the darkness outlining the slight glint in the boy's round glasses.

"Yeah." Draco said quietly. "I'm worried." He took a large gulp, his throat feeling scratchy and congested. "I have a bad feeling. I've had it for a while now. And in my head…" He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his forehead on them, looking down. "In my head, it all leads to the same place, like…" He held up his hands and traced lines through the air with his fingers. "Like strings. I don't know how they weave together, but I know where they lead, and they all lead to tomorrow for some reason." He puts his hands down again, staring in to his open palms. "I can't explain it, though. I'm sorry. I wish I knew."

"Draco…" Harry said next to him, seemingly at a loss for words. A slow quietness settles between them for a moment. He heard Harry rustle in his place next to him. 

"Draco." Harry said again, steadier this time. Draco looked at him finally. He looked angry at first. If Draco hadn't seen Harry angry before, he would've thought he was at that moment. His eyebrows were drawn together, and his eyes were boring in to him with a blazing determination that made Draco want to look away as if averting his eyes from the sun. This wasn't anger. It was something solid. Certainty, like a lifeline in a rough sea that Draco wanted to clutch on to.

"I don't want you to think that you have to figure everything out. That you have to know what's going to happen next." Harry said.

"But I can feel-"

"I know. But don't feel obligated to have to know these things before they happen. And don't feel obligated to save me from them."

"I…" Draco started, but couldn't finish.

"Because right now,' Harry continued, "I can see you're taking on some sort of burden for me. I'm sorry if I've made you feel…obligated to know things all the time. You don't need to solve everything that's in front of me. I've dealt with stuff like this since I was eleven. You don't need to…worry about me."

"But I can't help it." Draco said, "How could I not worry?"

"It's easy. Don't." Harry replied bluntly. But it wasn't that simple. Draco blew out a sharp breath, but didn't reply.

"Nothing good will come about if you die before you kill You-know-who." He muttered after a pause, resting his chin on his arms.

Harry, the git, only chuckled as if they weren't really speaking about his possible death in the near future. "I won't die."

"That's what someone who eventually dies would say." Draco snapped.

"We'll all die, but I won't because of him, alright? Not anytime soon. If I believe that, it might just be true."

"Merlin, you're depressing." Draco muttered.

"Me? What about you?" Harry exclaimed, "You actually think I'll die!"

"Let's stop talking about you dying, then, alright?" Draco yelled. "Let's change the subject. You're insufferable."

Harry laid back and threw an arm over his eyes. "You're insufferable." He said in a mocking tone that definitely _did not_ sound like Draco. "Posh git." He muttered under his breath, as if Draco weren't sitting right next to him. Draco seriously considered punching him in the stomach. The idiot left himself wide open and everything.

"Do you really think you can win?" Draco asked instead, trying to forget the unsettled feelings stirring inside him.

"I'm not sure." Harry said honestly, "I have a head start along with Cedric, but everyone there's tough competition, you know? And they're older than me."

"You've gotten on pretty well this far." 

"Well I had help for most of it, you know? The first task I had Hagrid showing me the dragons, then Cedric and you for the second task. Even Moody's offered to help."

"Moody?" Draco asked, leaning forward. Harry didn't notice the sudden urgency in his tone, and his eyes were still covered by his arm to see Draco's frown. 

_Moody offered to help Harry. An Auror. That breaks the rules._

Why did the fact resonate somewhere deep down with Draco? _Moody offered help._ chanted inside his head over and over, and he couldn't seem to get a grasp on it.

"Yeah. He tried to help me with the egg. I refused, though. It felt weird to get help from a teacher."

"Yeah." Draco replied absentmindedly. Why couldn't he figure it out? Everything inside him screamed _Wrong! Something's wrong!_

"Draco?" Harry peeked at him from under his arm, "You okay?"

"M'fine." Draco mumbled, straining to get a clutch on to the split-second thought he had that made everything make sense. "You should get some sleep."

"Yeah." Harry said slowly, rising up to sit but still looking at him. "Look, I need you to do something."

"What?" Draco looked at him in surprise. "Oh, sure. What is it?"

Harry brought out his cloak from his pocket, horrendously balled up. "Keep the cloak for me." He said, handing it to him.

" _Excuse me?_ " Draco gasped. Was Harry finally losing it? "Me?"

"Yes." Harry said noncommittally, shoving it into his lap. Draco's hands immediately went to grasp the soft fabric, seeing his hands disappear beneath them. "Just until after the task. You can use it to come see me afterwards, since you're so worried I won't come back."

"But what if I-"

"Lose it? You're not remotely that careless." He patted Draco's hands which were still sheathed by the Cloak. "It's fine. Keep it."

"You sure?" Draco sputtered. The fabric felt cool and silky, as if letting water run through his hands. "But it was your fathers." He said, ready for Harry to realise and rip back from him.

"I'm sure." Harry said, getting up and dusting his trousers off. "It's like collateral. I'll be back, okay?" Draco knew he wasn't talking about then right now, but the task.

"You'll be back." Draco said slowly, getting up as well and trying his best to fold the Cloak as best one folding invisible material could.

"I'll be back." Harry repeated surely, stretching and taking out his wand to hold it. "Now I really need to get back. Hermione will kill me if Ron tells her I was out for so long."

They both started to the school, wands in hands and looking around the grounds for signs of danger in case someone decided to attack or Filch appeared.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Harry said when they reached the entrance where they had to part ways.

"Yeah." Draco said, still in a slight daze. Harry reached out to his shoulder and squeezed once with a reassuring smile, as if Draco wasn't the one who needed to be doing the reassuring. He took back his hand and turned away to the direction of Gryffindor Tower with the same smile, leaving Draco standing in place, clutching the Invisibility Cloak to his chest. 

_Good luck,_ he wanted to call out to Harry's retreating figure, but couldn't get the words past the steadying anxiety snuffing his throat. Instead, he watched Harry's back until he disappeared from view, his heart feeling heavy with the sense of a harrowing tomorrow so strong, it made his eyes sting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm dreading writing the next chapter. Cedric was too hot to die. Spoiler: I still must kill him. Sorry!


	19. Beyond Repair

Harry gave Ron and Hermione one more crushing hug right before the Third Task begun. 

This was it. It was finally over. All he had to do was get through this one last task, and the Triwizard Tournament would be nothing more than a memory.

"Don't get hurt, Harry." Hermione whispered in his ear, muffled through her bushy hair.

"I won't. I'll be back." He said back, the words he'd said to Draco the night before echoing out of him after having spent the entire day with them clattering at the forefront of his mind. _I'll be back. I'll be back. I'll be back._

His friends pulled away, Ron slapping him on the back one more time. "Win us some gold, yeah? Can't be shown up by another school on our own turf." He said lightly, but even that had a nervous tone to it.

"I'll do my best." Harry said, trying to smile and show his friends he had it under control. All three stayed staring at each other for a moment longer, words spoken without being said, then Hermione pulled Ron away to the stands to sit down with the rest of the school.

Harry walked to where the rest of the champions were gathered, all being hugged and gushed over by their families. Amos Diggory nodded at him briefly as he spoke to Cedric, a comforting hand on his son's shoulder. 

They still had five minutes left, so Harry took the time to scan the crowds. He saw a few familiar ginger heads among the crowd, and he smiled to himself. After that, he spotted a spot of white amongst darkness, contrasting deeply with the dark night they would have to navigate the maze in.

Draco was looking at him, expression indiscernible, and Harry smiled and waved. Draco waved back, but he was still staring as if looking for something. Harry shook his head and looked away. Only a few minutes left. He had to focus on the task now.

"Champions! At the starting line, please!" 

Harry and Cedric stood side by side at the front of the line, wands in hand. Fleur and Viktor were behind them, but they wouldn't be going in until a few minutes after Harry and Cedric. 

"Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter, because you both tied for first place in points thus far, you have been granted a timed head start!"

The crowd roared and the band rumbled in a cacophony of trumpets and fanfares.

"You will all be competing for the title as Triwizard Champion through a series of obstacles and tests placed around this labyrinth! The first to navigate and find the cup will be crowned! On you marks, gentlemen…"

Harry gripped his wand tighter and saw Cedric tense up next to him. The entry to the maze was obscured by darkness and fog.

"Diggory and Potter….Start!"

They both started and ran inside, leaving the crowd behind them. The roars and cheers became muffled, but still audible. They came to a clearing that split two ways. Harry looked at Cedric and saw decision in the boys eyes. He knew what they would do. Nodding at each other, they turned opposite each other and went their separate ways. 

-o-o-

Draco watched Harry and Cedric run in to the maze, instantly obscuring them from view. Not long after, Fleur and Krum went in behind them. The cheers went down after that. Now all they could do was watch the maze until someone shot red sparks or found the Cup wherever it was. 

_Would it be in the same place he'd seen Moody cast those spells?_

Draco sat up in his seat, sounds around him becoming muffled and distant. He kept his eyes focused on the maze, the hedges towering menacingly with only the occasional flash of some sort of magic inside. Harry was somewhere in there. 

Draco looked around, eyes focusing on the parts others weren't looking at because they were transfixed on the maze itself. Outside the maze, the champions tent, the teacher's stands…

_There_.

Draco honed in on the mass of Hogwarts teachers seated together, not far off the podium where the champion will inevitably stand. 

Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hooch, Sprout. All seated and watching avidly. Draco looked closer. Next to the half-giant. Between him and Flitwick. 

A gap in the seats. 

Draco's heart began to thump in his chest uncomfortably. 

Moody wasn't in the stands. 

Without thinking, Draco stood. Blaise next to him grabbed his arm.

"Draco?" He asked worriedly. Draco shook him off, not peeling his eyes away from the empty seat in the stands.

"M'fine." He mumbled. "I'll be back." 

He clambered through the stand, gaining lots of dirty looks and utters of annoyance that he ignored. He made his way down, not knowing what he was doing or what he was thinking.

Before he knew it, he was walking up to the teacher's stand itself, hands clenched at his sides and breath coming unevenly. 

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape's voice sounded. He was seated at one of the sides. "What are you doing? Student's must be seated-"

"I need to talk to you." Draco said, not talking to Snape, but eyes locked on Dumbledore. Snape was in front of Draco in an instant, holding him back with one arm and his shoulder.

"Draco?" Snape sounded slightly worried now. It must have been something on Draco's face, or the shaky hands gripping his Godfather's arms, or the way he was looking at Dumbledore as if the man might disappear before his eyes.

"Professor Dumbledore. I need-" But it was difficult to say anything when he was trying to get past Snape.

"Draco, what's wrong?" Snape asked more urgently. "Tell us and we'll help you."

Dumbledore watched silently, eyes fixed on Draco as much Draco's were on his. 

"The task." Draco gasped, feeling out of breath and like his head was full of hot air. "The task. Stop it."

"The task? Stop the task?" A hand came to his forehead but he batted it away quickly.

" _Let me go!_ " Draco finally shook Snape off, looking at him for the first time. He'd never seen the man look at him so unguardedly. Like he was scared.

He looked away. He didn't have time to analyse that.

"Professor Dumbledore." Draco said again, voice sharp but still slightly shaky, "You need to call off the task. Something's about to go wrong."

Dumbledore showed the first sign of reaction to Draco. The other teachers looked on incredulously, and Draco walked closer.

"And on what basis are these assumptions, dear boy?" The man said, too infuriatingly calm.

"I don't have time to explain it." Draco said, not caring if he sounded desperate and pleading, "But something's not right. Please just believe me."

All the teachers stared at him pityingly, as if he was _crazy_. Draco swore.

"Where is Moody?" He asked, much too sharp a tone to be using on a group of adults.

"It's _Professor_ Moody-" One of the teachers started, before a flash of red sparks lit up the air. 

Draco spun around to the maze, looking up to the sparks as their colour set a sickening tint of red light over his face and Snape's in front of him. His heart sped. If it was Harry, he was probably unharmed enough to call for help…

A moment later, Fleur Delacour was levitated out the maze. The tightness in his chest didn't let up.

"Draco." Snape said sternly. "What is the meaning of this-"

"It's Moody!" Draco shouted, "He's not right. I don't trust him! Where is he?"

"Moody is scouting the maze-"

" _Shit_." Draco swore. He scanned the maze as if it might tell him where the man was. "This task. Something's about to happen. Nothing about this feels right-"

He was cut off by guttural screams, as if someone was being tortured. They continued for a long time, as if the pain causing them were prolonged. Draco couldn't tell if they were Harry's screams or not. He'd never heard Harry scream like that before. He'd never heard anyone scream like that before.

Eruptedly, they stopped. 

Not long after, as Draco stood still in the same place unable to move, red sparks lit the air again. He watched them not knowing where his mind was, or even what he was seeing was even real anymore.

Viktor Krum was the next to leave the maze unconscious.

_Harry's still in there. He might just win, _Is the first thing Draco thought of.__

__Something stopped inside Draco's chest. The hot air inside his head became hotter._ _

____It'd be easy for him._ _ _ _

__Draco thought his head might explode. It was like hot liquid glass was sloshing around his skull._ _

__Moody. Inside the maze. The Cup. The Task. Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire._ _

____It was made easy for him._ _ _ _

__Draco started, not realising his muscles had been coiling with tension all this time. Snape must have seen it too, because the man was already holding Draco back._ _

__"I need to go!" He screamed, "It's the Cup!"_ _

__"Draco, you need to-"_ _

__" _It's the Cup! They want him to win!_ " But no one heard him. Nobody listened. "Just _listen to me!_ "_ _

__But his screams were swallowed up by the crowds. A raucous tremor had ripped through them. There were gasps and mutters and a chorus of sound that were almost deafening._ _

__He didn't know what was happening before teachers were running past him from behind. The band was still droning on._ _

__He felt a strong grip on his arm. He was being moved by someone. Probably Snape. He was led past the stands, away from the maze. Where was Harry? Him or Cedric should be out by now._ _

__He heard Snape muttering to someone as they walked, but Draco's eyes were blank, unfocused._ _

__"…Gone…Diggory and….Couldn't have gone far…" He heard. He fought Snape's grip a bit, but the man was like iron._ _

__"Come with me, Draco." The man said. He was led inside the school._ _

__Snape hauled him in to an empty classroom. He was shoved in to a chair roughly, but he couldn't quite feel any of the pain that would come with._ _

__"I need to go back." Draco said roughly, "I keep telling you, something's about to-"_ _

__"We know, Draco. Have you not been aware all this time?"_ _

__"Aware of _what_?" Draco hissed._ _

__"Potter and Cedric are missing. They disappeared with the-"_ _

__"The cup." Draco finished for him, staring blankly at his Godfather as the words sunk in._ _

___Harry's missing. With the Cup._ _ _

__"What is it, then? A portkey?" Draco demanded. Snape looked down at him, expression indecipherable. " _Tell me, Severus._ "_ _

__"We think so." Snape said finally. His voice sounded grave but his face gave nothing away._ _

__"Shit." Draco hissed. "Shit, shit, shit." He plunged his head in to his hands, surprised his temples didn't burn his fingers from how painful the searing heat in his brain was. _Harry's gone.__ _

__"Draco, how did you-"_ _

__"I've known for a while." He said without looking up. "I knew. Merlin, I knew from the start. I knew and I couldn't…"_ _

__Harry had stepped in to a trap. Draco knew for sure it was set for him. Cedric must have gotten involved. Draco saw the signs but didn't do a damn thing…_ _

__"How on earth could you have known, Draco?" Snape asked incredulously._ _

__"I just…Moody's been suspicious to me for a while now. And Harry…" Draco mumbled._ _

__"You've been…speaking with _Potter_?" Draco could hear the disgust in the mans voice._ _

__"Yes I have." Draco said flatly, not caring what his Godfather thought. He was too tired to give a damn about him. "Harry was put in this tournament for a _reason_. We both knew that. I could see the signs that something was about to happen. I knew it would happen today."_ _

__Draco looked up at his Godfather suddenly, realising whom it was he was exactly speaking to. The man towered over him, not as angry as he'd thought he should have been._ _

__"Professor, what's wrong?" Draco asked. Snape wasn't speaking. He wasn't even looking at him. His eyes were fixed far off, and he had a hand placed over his left forearm. Draco looked at the arm. How Snape held it so tight his knuckles went white. Draco stood up._ _

__"Professor." Draco croaked, voice grave and final. "What's about to happen?"_ _

__Snape finally looked at him as if he forgot he was there._ _

__"Professor." Draco said harsher this time. "I'm going to ask just once, otherwise I'm going to Dumbledore." He braced himself with a shaky breath. "Is he coming back?"_ _

__"Is who coming back." Snape said flatly._ _

__" _You know who!_ " Draco roared. "_Is he coming back?_"

"I…" The man couldn't seem to get a grip on himself. He was looking at Draco as if he might get hexed at any moment, and Draco hadn't ruled it out yet. "I can't be sure."

" _Bullshit!_ " Draco shouted, "You're one them aren't you? You have the Mark?"

"I am not one of them." Snape said sullenly.

"But you have the Mark, do you not." Draco lowered his voice to a dangerous pitch just above a whisper. "You fought for him in the first war."

"I defected to Dumbledore's side before the end."

"I don't give a shit. Tell me what you know _now!_ " Snape had to be involved. He was a Death Eater. He had to know if something was about to happen. "Where is Harry?" Draco gripped his wand behind his back.

"You misunderstand, you foolish boy." Snape reprimanded, "I know nothing of the events of this night-"

Just then, Snape cried out and clutched his left arm to his chest. Draco stepped forward but Snape turned his body away from him. The man hissed through his teeth, pulling up his left sleeve but obscuring his arm from view just before Draco could see. He stood there with his back to him, breathing heavily. Slowly, Snape's head looked up from his arm.

"I must go. I'll be back." He said levelly, and was marching out the door before Draco could say anything. "Stay here." He said before he left, and slammed the door shut with the telltale sound of a locking charm to follow.

"Shit." Draco muttered, going up to the door and trying to unlock it with his wand to no avail. It must have been a dark arts spell. He was locked in.

"Shit!" He kicked a chair across the room. What was that just now? Why did Snape's left arm start to hurt. Why would his mark start to hurt?

Where was the man going now? Draco's mouth went dry and it was difficult to swallow. Was his father's mark burning too? He was busy stewing in assumptions and what-if's when the door behind him unlocked and swung open.

Draco spun around, expecting to see Snape and grill him on everything, when he saw Alastor Moody standing in the doorway.

"For a Malfoy, you're quite keen." The man said. Draco swallowed nervously, a lump in his throat. Moody stepped in and locked the door behind him.

"For an ex-Auror, you're not." Draco said, trying to sound brave. Moody just laughed, a deranged, menacing sound feeling much too loud for the classroom they were in. Draco gripped his wand tightly behind his back still, feeling the tremors going through them but ignoring the feeling.

"I know what you are." Draco said when the laughing subsided. 

"Oh, is that so? Do tell."

"You're a Death Eater."

The man just chuckled again. "A brave assumption, but how so when I don't have the mark?"

"Then why are you here?" Draco said harshly. 

"Don't think I haven't watched you and Potter." The man said, his magical eye now fixed on Draco. "I know what you think of me, and I can't have you intervene after tonight." The man drew out his wand, instantly spurring Draco in to pulling out his own.

" _Expelliarmus._ " The man immediately intoned. Draco's wand went flying in to his hand. He gazed at it closely, running his fingers along it in a way that gave Draco chills.

"The Dark Lord will not have blood-traitors serving him. You are a disappointment to your family name, Malfoy. How _dare_ you go against the Dark Lord? Against the very being of your existence?"

"That man is no lord of mine." Draco breathed.

"Then you are no better than a mudblood." Moody declared. "You of all people will know what mudbloods are to us." Moody pointed his wand at Draco, Draco's own wand in his other hand. "Less than the dirt under our shoes."

Draco had to move. He had get out of the way, but his body was paralyzed and he didn't even have a wand. It's like he was frozen place from anticipation and fear.

" _Crucio._ " Moody whispered, and Draco's vision fell through as he became a creature of pain and heat, awareness of who he was replaced by lava through his veins and hot needles under his skin.

-o-o-

Draco didn't realise the pain had ceased even as he kept screaming. He still felt it under his skin, burrowing and writhing between his nerves if he moved even an inch. His muscles twitched involuntarily, causing more pain to shoot through to a stabbing in his temples.

"This is how we treat mudbloods. This is what you devote yourself to, you foolish, stupid boy." Moody was kneeling next to him now, whispering harshly as Draco twitched on the floor.

"F...Fuck you." Draco croaked, feeling saliva running down his chin. Moody got up, bracing himself with his wand pointed at Draco again.

"You are beyond repair." The man declared, "I will carry out my master's vision starting with you."

Draco braced himself, but his mind was too scrambled to even think. Was Harry in the same position he was? Was Harry already dead? Would they both die that night?

" _Avada-_ " Moody started, but stopped midway, his magical eye disappearing behind his head. The man paused, as if listening. 

Then Draco heard it. Screams coming from outside. The crowds were rumbling with screams and shouts.

"Damn." Moody swore. He looked at Draco. "I'll be back." He growled, and threw open the doors quickly, shutting it with a lock and leaving Draco with the sound of his wooden stump thumping away unevenly.

-o-o-

Draco wasn't sure how long he lay there on the cold ground, every nerve in his body sensitive and sending jolts of electricity through him if he moved. He tried to even his labored breathing, his voice raw from screaming for so long.

_He just used the Cruciatus on me, _Draco thought.__

__So this was what it felt like. After all the threats from his father growing up, he'd never experienced it firsthand. It was like he became aware of nothing but the feeling. The burning, stinging, broiling feelings underneath his skin all at once. It was like hell on earth. He wouldn't wish it on anyone._ _

__Slowly, he found it easier to breathe without making those awful gasping sounds coming out of his mouth. He managed to move his toes, his fingers, his limbs without so much of the pain. After a few minutes, he painstakingly pulled himself up in to a sitting position, only crying out once when his stomach spasmed with a shock of pain._ _

__He half-crawled, half-dragged himself to one of the walls, propping himself there with a sigh._ _

___Moody has my wand. I can't do anything,_ Draco thought. Would Moody come back and kill him? Was he actually going to die? Draco thought about his friends, Pansy, Blaise, even Nott and Crabbe and Goyle. He thought about his mother. He hoped she knew what was good for her and left his father before he pulled her in to another war._ _

__Draco thought about Harry. Was Harry dead? He must be if he was captured. He couldn't quite believe it, though. Harry and Death just never seemed to overlap. It just never made sense. The boy was too alive, too present. He couldn't be dead._ _

__It didn't matter, anyway. Draco was going to die either way._ _

__Just as Draco managed to segue himself in to the peace of pending death, the door swung open once again._ _

__In came Moody again, only this time he was hauling a bleeding and tear-streaked Harry inside._ _


	20. Flesh and Blood of the Same Breed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters at once! I felt bad leaving a cliffhanger, to be quite honest. We're almost done with fourth year, but not even near the end. What have i gotten myself in to.

"I'll kill you both together." Moody growled, throwing Harry down next to Draco.

"You _bastard_ " Harry spat, clutching the bleeding cut on his arm and glaring at Moody. He registered Draco next to him, looking pale and worse for wear. He didn't even know how the boy got involved, but knowing Draco he must have done exactly that.

"How did you escape?" Moody snarled. "Has he returned?"

Harry spat at his feet, spelling the man in to silence. He seethed, glaring at Harry with murderous vehemence. 

"He should have killed you." Moody said, "But never mind that now. I will finish to task my Lord sought out to complete." He pointed his wand at Harry, hand shaking in anger.

"No!" Draco shouted next to him, throwing himself in front of Harry with an expression that looked as if every movement caused him pain. Harry knew that look. He had it too, at that moment, but the adrenaline running through his veins numbed him from the pain almost completely.

"Move, boy. You will be next. Harry Potter will be the first death after the rise of the Dark Lord."

"Death Eater scum." Draco spat, voice hoarse as if he'd screamed it raw.

Harry's blood chilled. Draco had been tortured. With the Cruciatus, just like him.

"You condemn me as if the blood and flesh you're made of are not of the same breed." Moody snarled. Harry blanched, remembering seeing Lucius at the graveyard amongst the chaos.

"I'll die of the Cruciatus before I recognise his breed as mine." Draco sneered, sounding nasally as if he'd been crying. What had happened while he'd been gone? Why was Draco even here?

"That can be arranged, traitor." Moody said. He readjusted his grip on his wand and pointed it in their direction. It was uncertain whom the spell might hit, but Harry didn't have it in him to move. 

_Move, Draco!_ He screamed inside, but nothing came out of his mouth. His body felt slow and sluggish, adrenaline subsiding. He couldn't think straight. Everything was a muddled mess, and his muscles ached from the Cruciatus and then the duel.

"Harry, go!" Draco hissed at him, not looking back from Moody. Harry didn't quite understand. Draco wanted him to leave? Harry didn't want to leave. Would that mean Draco would have to die?

"No." Harry whispered back. Nobody else would die because of him that night. "Move, Draco."

" _Shut the fuck up and leave you-_ "

"No!" Harry barked, "I won't let this madman kill anyone!"

"Enough!" Moody barked. "Mad, am I? We'll see! We'll see who's mad, now that the Dark Lord has returned, with me at his side! He is back, Harry Potter, you did not conquer him — and now — I conquer you!"

The door bust open, and Moody was immediately stunned and bound by Albus Dumbledore. Snape walked in after him, face falling when he looked at Draco.

"Professor." Draco croaked, trying to get up but immediately falling back on to Harry.

"Don't move. You're hurt." Harry whispered to him. Draco's head looked up, eyes shining on his tear streaked face.

"You're here. You came back." He whispered roughly.

"I'm here." Harry repeated, then Draco's body went limp.

"Severus, get mister Malfoy to the hospital wing. I'll deal with Harry and the imposter." Dumbledore commanded. Snape spurred in to action, magically binding and levitating Draco away without sparing a glance at Harry. Had Harry had the smallest bit more energy, he would have gotten up to see him off.

McGonagall followed in not long after. "Oh, dear boy." She said upon seeing Harry, eyes worried and pitying. 

"Harry." Dumbledore said, "Can you walk?"

"I think so, sir." Harry said, clutching his bleeding arm that was now throbbing.

"Please find strength for a little while longer, Harry. I will have you in the Hospital Wing soon enough."

"Albus," McGonagall protested, "The boy is injured! He's been _traumatised!_ "

"Just for a little while longer, Minerva. We need to know while his memory is fresh."

"He has been through an ordeal! He needs medical attention!"

"And medical attention he will receive." Dumbledore said in a tone that left no argument. McGonagall stared at him incredulously. "Harry, if you will come with me, please."

"Okay, sir." Harry said, wincing at his sensitive muscles sending shoots of pain through him, "Just give me a moment to get up." Slowly, he came to stand, legs protesting and his head going slightly light and dizzy. McGonagall watched him as if he might as well have been on fire in front of them.

Harry followed behind Dumbledore all the way up to his office, a bound Moody levitating with them. Once in the office, several other teachers were present, and all stared at Harry with varying degrees of shock and horror.

"Severus will be here with the Veritaserum soon, everyone."

-o-o-

The interrogation of Barty Crouch Jr. went by without any time passing at all. Harry just sat there and watched as the man spewed hatred and insanity, completely devoted to his master.

Soon enough, the Polyjuice wore off, and Barty Crouch Jr. was revealed, having never been Alastor Moody at all. Harry barely listened, his mind buzzing with nothing and everything all at once.

Then the Aurors took Crouch away, and the teacher's left the room, and Dumbledore made Harry recount everything that happened as soon as Harry touched the Cup along with Cedric Diggory. Harry could barely look at the man the eyes, let alone his Godfather when he walked in and pulled Harry in to a crushing hug.

Harry couldn't quite get anything through his head. All he kept seeing was Cedric's limp and lifeless body laying on the ground in his mind's eye.

 _Kill the spare,_ Voldemort had said. Voldemort who now had a body. Who now had risen again.

The war had begun.

-o-o-

Finally settled in the Hospital Wing, Harry was too restless to sleep. Madam Pomfrey had given him some potions for the pain from the Cruciatus and healed the wound his arm, now a silver curved scar.

He turned his head to the side to the side, where the curtain surrounding him obscured his view of Draco in the next bed, whom had been sleeping when he came in.

"He'll be fine. Just some well-needed rest for his nerves to repair themselves." Madam Pomfrey assured him when he asked. He was meant to be asleep too, Sirius guarding him from outside in his Animagus form, but he couldn't let go of the tension from the past few hours. 

He lay there awake for a long time, staring blankly at the ceiling as his mind caught up with everything.

"Harry…" He heard after a while, when the clock had long struck three in the morning. 

"Draco?" Harry croaked, his voice rough from misuse. The boy sounded weak. Maybe his potions wore off and he was in pain. He needed to call Madam Pomfrey…

But his train of thought was cut off when the curtain swished to the side and Draco appeared, clutching his stomach and slightly hunched over.

Harry sat up quickly on his elbows, "Draco, you can't be up-"

"Save it, Harry." Draco said, voice still hoarse and holding up his free hand. He limped slowly to the edge of Harry's bed, eyes assessing him.

"Hi." Harry said.

"Hello yourself." Draco replied, coming to sit on the end of his bed wearing light pajamas provided by Madam Pomfrey. He winced slightly as he hoisted himself up, and waved off Harry again when he tried to help him.

"Harry?" Sirius's voice called out from behind the curtain, "Who are you-" Sirius appeared, stopping when he saw Draco on the bed.

"Hello, cousin." Draco said casually, looking behind him. 

"You should be in bed." Sirius said flatly, looking stunned at Draco.

"It's fine." Harry said. "We're fine."

"Right…" Sirius said, looking between them. He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Always something with you, Harry." he said resignedly, turning away and leaving to guard again and leaving them alone again.

Harry looked at Draco, whom was already looking at him. There was more colour in his face, and he looked otherwise unharmed.

"How are you?" Harry asked, still sitting propped up on an elbow. Draco snorted, eyes crinkling as he smiled.

"I should be asking you that." His face softened and he looked at Harry worriedly. 

Harry laid back down, folding his hands over his stomach. He sighed deeply, "I'm not sure."

Draco patted him on the knee, "We'll have time to talk about it later. I won't make you go over it again."

"And you?"

"Just a bit of the Cruciatus Curse. I'm fine otherwise." Draco said simply.

"It's painful." Harry stated, looking at the ceiling.

"I know." Draco said softly. He dropped himself off the bed again with a wince. "Now get to sleep. I just came to check that you were still here."

"Okay." Harry said quietly, missing the weight on the bed immediately. "I won't go anywhere."

"I know." Draco said just before disappearing around the curtain. "I believe you. I'll be here when you wake up."


	21. Weasley's and Malfoy

Draco definitely believed it when Harry told him he wouldn't be going anywhere, but he really _could not_ believe it when he was kicked out of the Hospital Wing early the next morning without him.

Granted, Draco was fully healed as far as physical injuries went. His muscles didn't ache as much anymore and his voice had been fully healed from a sharp tasting potion Madam Pomfrey had to threaten him to take. Technically, he didn't _have_ a reason to be in the Hospital Wing, and complaining of mental distress just had a Calming Draught stuffed in his hands on the way out while Harry was still passed out on his bed with a black dog guarding him.

Draco blamed Dumbledore. Old senile fucker.

Snape came by early in the morning while Draco was still in the Hospital bed, swishing in and assessing Draco critically, almost as if looking for injury.

"You stupid boy." Was the first thing the man said to him. Draco did his best not to roll his eyes.

"I'm glad I'm alive, too, Severus." He crossed his arms over his chest, sitting up over his tray of food brought in earlier through a spontaneous pop from thin air.

"It's _Professor Snape_ while on school grounds, Draco. Now I'll trust you smart enough to keep your mouth _shut_ for the next few minutes while I speak." Snape said harshly. The man went on to tell Draco in detail what exactly happened to Harry the night before, while Draco had been stuck in the classroom. From the moment Harry and Cedric touched the Portkey, to Cedric's own death and the subsequent capture of Harry.

Then to Draco's horror, Snape told him about the ritual. The bone of the father, unwillingly taken. The flesh of the servant, willingly given, and the blood of the enemy, forcibly taken.

Then the apparent resurrection of The Dark Lord from the use of the potion from which Harry's blood was forcibly taken.

A fully corporal, able bodied Voldemort, walking on the ground once again.

"But- How-?" Draco sputtered, his vision going blurry and his world crumbling around him.

"Potter's own words." Snape simply said, then continued. He spoke to Draco about the duel between Harry and Voldemort, how the path of their spells met and Priori Incantatem occurred. Draco had only read about it before, being extremely rare, extremely lucky. Harry had been extremely lucky.

And then, Merlin help them all, Harry had escaped. He took the Portkey back with Cedric's body straight on to the Quidditch Pitch, which was what led to Moody's imposter taking him to where Draco was held. How Moody wasn't Moody at all, but Barty Crouch's presumed dead son, polyjuicing as him.

"The Minister came today to drop off the prize, and I overheard him and Professor McGonagall arguing. The man nor the Ministry don't believe a word Potter says." Snape said disdainfully. "They likely won't acknowledge it at all just to make the Ministry look less like a zoo than normal."

"And you believe all this?" Draco asked, numb with shock from all the information as it slowly sunk in. Snape halted and stared at him. Draco noticed him swallow quickly. "Professor? Is it all true?" Draco asked more urgently. It wasn't that he doubted anything Harry said, but it was all so much that he wanted to grasp on to the chance that it wasn't true.

Voldemort was back. He was now alive, resurrected and vengeful.

"It…" Snape started, a strange expression on his face Draco could only place as fear, "It is all true, Draco. He is back." the man clutched his left arm, and Draco stiffened. He had forgotten whom he was really speaking to.

Slowly, he turned his eyes to the table next to him where his wand was laying.

"I- do not misunderstand, boy. I am not one of his." Snape said quickly.

"You have the mark, do you not?" Draco asked insistently, immediately on guard and already gripping his wand. His nerves rapid fired and he pointed his wand at Snape. "Did you go to him when he called?" Draco hissed, his hand in front of him shaking. He needed to call someone. Call Pomfrey. Harry was just on the next bed over…Was Snape here to finish the job?

"Draco, _stop_." Snape commanded, hands held up defensively. "I'm not the enemy here. Do you hear me, boy?"

" _You left me there!_ " Draco shouted, "You left me when your mark started to _burn_. When _he_ called out to you and the rest of his followers! Did you answer the call? Because you sure as hell weren't with me while I was being _tortured_ by one of his other followers!"

Snape's frown deepened, but his hands stayed up as he stared at Draco. 

"You will wake him, Draco." Snape said finally, glancing to the side where Harry was. "I mean absolutely no harm to Potter, let alone you. Just calm yourself. I am no threat. I was with Dumbledore at the time, as a pledge to my allegiance to his side." He explained, and Draco noticed the bandages wrapped around his left arm, now visible with his sleeves hitched up. "And understand I am deeply sorry for what transpired after I left you-"

"You locked me in!" Draco yelled again, barely feeling the tears streaming down his face, explaining why his vision had been so blurry and why he felt such a blossoming amount of pressure in his chest. 

"I did it for your safety. Had you gotten involved-"

"I was involved anyway! I was tortured until my bones ached, and so you'd better tell me the truth about where your loyalties lie because otherwise I'll hex you right here where you stand!"

"There will be no need for that." A breezy voice announced. Albus Dumbledore was waltzing in, a definitive look at Draco having him lowering his wand. "Good morning, Professor." The old man twinkled. Snape barely held in a scowl as Dumbledore turned to regard Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy, greetings once again."

"Yeah." Draco grumbled, eyeing the man suspiciously. There was just something about their Headmaster that Draco found creepy. 

"I trust you have been briefed on recent events?" Dumbledore ventured, sounding too casual than to be talking about the rise of Voldemort.

"Yes, and I trust I was told the truth?" Draco said, wiping his face roughly to rid himself of the probably tear stains.

"Unfortunately, it all is." The man replied gravely. "Voldemort has once again risen. The time has come, much too early for Harry."

Draco nodded mournfully, looking down at his lap. 

"Are you here to obliviate me?" He asked dully without looking up.

"Obliviate?" He heard Snape repeat incredulously. Dumbledore just chuckled.

"No, none of that, dear boy."

"Then why are you here?" Draco asked insistently, "Why are you telling me all this? Don't you know who I am? Who _he_ is?" Draco gestured to Snape.

"I am well aware, Mr. Malfoy. On both accounts." Draco looked up in surprise. Was the old man senile? "I am a fair man. I know where my enemies lie, and there are none present right now." Draco glanced momentarily at Snape, the man looking back at him. "I understand you have made sacrifices for Harry, and any friend of Harry is a friend of mine."

"A friend." Draco scoffed, not caring if he sounded rude, "This has far to do with than simple friendship."

"The two have much to do with each other, Draco." Dumbledore said coolly. "Friendship and war."

"A soft general, one that relies on _friendship_ , will lead only dead men." Draco replied, staring coldly at his Headmaster. 

"Good thing I have you, then." Dumbledore smiled, and chills ran across Draco's skin. "My old age hasn't touched my mind yet, dear boy. You may not agree, but your loyalties were placed the moment you and Harry aligned paths to the defeat of Voldemort."

"Defeat?" Draco almost laughed. "You can't expect Harry to defeat that lunatic." A cold laugh did escape him then, the idea so eccentric and so damn _worrying_ it made him hysterical. 

Dumbledore, however, did not find it funny. "Indeed, Draco. I will not say much except that Voldemort and Harry's paths have been intertwined for a long time, and a long time coming. Now you and Harry's have merged, and so has the path to Voldemort as well."

"What about my father?" Draco asked, the thought only just occurring to him. "You can't possibly trust me when my father…" He looked at Snape questioningly, dread filling his chest with a whole new type of weight.

"I am afraid Harry stated that your father was among the few returning followers of Lord Voldemort." Dumbledore said, no hint of sympathy in his voice.

Draco swallowed, a large lump in his throat that made it hard to breathe. "So…How can you trust me?" He asked hoarsely, trying to dull the sting in his eyes. "I am the son of a Death Eater. I might even become one as well in the future."

"Do you want to?" Dumbledore asked calmly, and Draco shut his eyes, tears betraying him and rolling down his face. 

He shook his head slowly, "I would rather die." He said, voice quivering slightly. "It's not what I believe in." He looked up at the man with his eyes, barely moving up his head.

"Then there you have it." The man said, as if it settled everything. "You need not to worry. You are not the first to change sides." Dumbledore glanced at Snape, who was looking at Draco with a frown. "I will keep you under my protection, along with the protection of the Order."

"Order?" Draco asked.

"The Order of the Phoenix." Dumbledore said. "As of today I am reinstating it." He said to the surprise of Snape next to him.

"And Harry?" Draco asked, not caring about whatever shoddy club Dumbledore had going on.

"He will return to his muggle relatives for the summer, where he will be safest."

"I didn’t mean it like that." Draco snapped. "What about _Harry_. You need to prepare him. He's been traumatised, and you just want to ship him off? Would he not be better off living around other wizards and witches? Among magical people he can talk to and trust that will understand him?"

"I'm afraid that's impossible. Very old blood magic protects Harry at his relatives house. It impertinent for his safety he remains there." Dumbledore said finally.

"Why not the Weasleys?" Draco couldn't believe he would be vouching for them to the Headmaster in his lifetime. "I'm sure they can protect him."

"They are not his blood." Dumbledore repeated himself. "He needs his Aunt's connection with his mother."

"But _Harry_ -"

"Enough, Draco." Snape barked. "Ten points from Slytherin for speaking with such obvious ill-disdain to your Headmaster."

Draco's hands gripped his sheets tightly, trying his best not to glare at his Head of House.

"It's quite alright, Severus. We should be wrapping up soon, anyway." Dumbledore said.

"Wrapping up?" Draco asked incredulously, "I still have no bloody idea what's going on! You Know Who is back, and now I have to go back to a house with one of his followers, and my friend's been traumatised, _I've_ been traumatised! Where do I even bloody start? I'll be hanged if any one of his followers finds out I'm not one of them! Bully for me that I sleep in a dorm with all of their children for nine months of the year! There is much more to unwrap than to wrap up, Headmaster!"

"You look too far ahead, Draco." The man said, still infuriatingly calm. "You will merely do as you have been doing these past few months, which is acting accordingly."

"You mean, like what, some sort of mole?" Draco retorted. Dumbledore only nodded, to his disbelief.

"Like Severus here." He said, gesturing to Snape next to him. "I understand you also have some doubts about his loyalty, but I can assure you they are well placed. Please put your trust in him from now on if you need anything." He turned to Snape, completely ignoring Draco's incoherent sputters of disagreement, "Severus, I'm sure you can look after the boy if necessary?" Snape nodded, and Dumbledore continued, "And if any emergency or need shall arise, the address is number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London."

And before Draco could speak, Dumbledore was gone, leaving him and Snape alone once again.

"Madam Pomfrey will give you your last round of potions, then you will go back to your dormitory. Classes are suspended until further notice, and it is early enough that no one will notice your disappearance." Snape said, treating Draco with the same cold disparity he did with any other student. "Do not speak of your involvement to a soul, and you will stay in the Dungeons until students may leave Hogwarts."

"But-"

"Just do as I say!" Snape barked. "Potter will be fine, and his gang of Weasleys will be able to visit him soon. Just go, Draco."

And that was how Draco found himself trudging back to his dormitory, barely limping but still feeling an extra chill he knows isn't really there. It was like his nerves were all heightened in sensitivity, and the thought of someone else brushing against his skin made him shiver. The scratch of his clothes alone was almost too much for him.

But Draco had a plan. He wasn't a Slytherin for nothing, and a little Gryffindor influence couldn't do much damage. All he needed to do was retrieve something from his trunk by his bed.

Tucked away safely, under heavy locking spells in the fear he might even possibly lose it. The Invisibility Cloak, entrusted by Harry himself to come and see him. 

Like hell he'd let Harry wake up alone after all he went through.

-o-o-

Walking back to the Hospital Wing underneath the cloak was one of the most deviously fun things Draco had done in a while, and he'd stolen Gillyweed from Snape's office a few months before.

Did he really need the cloak? Maybe not! It was way too early for a student to be out in the halls, and the chances of running in to a teacher were low for the most part. Draco just reveled in the idea of being completely unseen, which was a feeling unlike any other because of the way it gave him an upper hand from the get-go if any situation arose. 

He crept in to the Hospital Wing slowly, pleased to find there were no teachers or Madam Pomfrey present. He saw Harry's bed, curtained off and the black dog sitting on the outside. It immediately perked it's head when Draco stepped in, and he cursed internally. _That's the bloody ex-convict!_

And on cue, the dog morphed in to a tall man with long black hair and enough tattoos to send his mother in to a fit. So this was his cousin, Sirius Black.

"Whoever's there, show yourself before I bite you on the ass." The man said, wand held out with a lethally serious look on his face.

Draco had to admit, this had to be one of his _cooler_ family members. He always did prefer the Black side. 

Sighing, he tore off the cloak with his hands held up non-threateningly . "Just me, cousin." He said casually.

Sirius's face fell and he almost looked _disappointed_ , guard completely down.

Well, then. That kind of stung. 

"Oh. Malfoy." Sirius sighed, putting away his wand. This was shocking. Was Draco not enough of a threat for him? He'd wasn't the scariest bloke in the world, but he definitely wasn't _put away your wand because he can't really do much harm_ kind of harmless. He grinded his teeth together, incredibly annoyed but plastering a fake smile on his face so the man would just _let him through_.

"I need to see-"

"Harry. I know. Did he give you that?" Sirius pointed to the cloak, bunched up in Draco's hands.

"Uh." Draco said, mildly confused. "Yeah. Not forever, though."

Sirius didn't even bother to register what Draco said, already pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes as if begging for strength. "The things I could do with that…" He said almost painfully, "If his father hadn't given it to him I'd have taken it for myself. He can do a _few_ years without running around the school-"

"Uh…" Draco was surprisingly eloquent this morning. "Okay. Can I-"

"See Harry, yeah I know." Sirius waved him off, eyes still closed and pinching his nose. "Go on, then. He trusts you for some bloody reason. Merlin, the balls on that boy. It's like James and Lily speaking to me at once. I can't even compete anymore. Look at me now, just listening to a child. I should get Moony to speak some sense in to him…" Sirius rambled with Draco still standing there, unsure what his place was in the man's…triads.

Leaving his weird cousin to it, Draco hurried past him, but the man placed a firm hand on in front of him before he could pass through. 

"Malfoy." He said. Draco looked at him expectantly, heart hammering because he was _so close_ to seeing Harry. "He's…" The man paused, trying to find the right words. "He's been hurt. Don't make it any worse. I'm hanging on to the trust Harry placed on you, so don't disappoint me. Alright?"

Draco nodded without hesitating, staring head-on in to the man's eyes to convey his seriousness. It was hard, though, because there was something difficult to look at with the way the man's eyes crinkled with knowledge and ghosts of things he had probably picked up in Azkaban. Twelve years were bound to have their effect on a person. Holding back a shiver, Draco held his same coloured gaze for just a moment longer before a small voice croaked out.

" _Draco?_ "

"Harry!" Draco exclaimed, forgetting Sirius and passing through the curtain, the man not following behind him. He rushed in to see Harry sat up, one hand rubbing his eyes and the other groping the table next to him for his glasses. Draco quickly went and picked them off the table, opening and placing them on Harry's face. Harry sat there and let him, and Draco watched as his green eyes came to focus on his.

"Hi." Harry said, and they stared at each other for a moment. 

"Hello yourself." Draco couldn't help the relieved smile on his face. Harry was _there_. He was alive, and he came back, although a little more bruised and scarred.

"You're okay?" Harry asked, voice still hoarse and eyes searching Draco for evidence of injury.

"I'm fine, Harry." He said. Trust Harry to be so damn selfless, asking about him. He should be worrying about _himself_ , Merlin's sake.

"You were attacked." Harry's face suddenly changed. From blank and wide eyed to lined, heavy and burdened. His eyes became weighed down as if all the events of the past night came back to him. "Cruciatus." His voice cracked, and Draco was shocked to see his eyes lining with tears.

"I'm fine-" Draco started to reassure him, but was cut off by Harry's arms throwing themselves around his shoulders, stooping him over the bed. His arms immediately came up to encircle Harry back, involuntarily feeling himself melt in to the hug from relief.

It was a moment before he felt Harry's heaving chest, and heard the small sobs coming from the boy. He immediately tightened his grasp on the boy, voicing soothing hushed sounds to him every so often. 

Draco saw Sirius walk in over Harry's shoulder. The man stopped as soon as he saw the pair, and Draco silently nodded to Sirius to say he had control. The man looked between the two again, then miraculously nodded back and disappeared behind the curtain again.

"It's him…" Harry sobbed in to Draco's shoulder, "He's back…"

"Hush. It's alright. Dumbledore told me everything. You don't need to think about it right now." Draco said as gentle as he could, heart wrenching as Harry clenched his clothing and cried.

"I couldn't…It's my fault!" Harry hiccupped, leaning in to Draco more as he drew slow circles on Harry's back soothingly. Draco guessed Harry was talking about Cedric, and his heart squeezed because Harry really blamed himself for someone else's death.

"It's not your fault. Harry. You couldn't have known. You did the best you could." 

"I should have just taken the cup." Harry drew back, looking up at Harry with a tear stricken face and haunted eyes. "He killed him because of me."

Draco said nothing, pulling Harry back in and cradling the back of his head as the boy cried in to his shoulder. 

"It's okay…You're safe now…it's all over…" Draco repeated in a low tone over and over, hoping Harry bloody _listened_. The boy clutched his jumper tightly, and Draco stood there next to his bed for a long time until the cries lessened in to sniffles, and Harry's grip on him loosened. 

When he felt he could, Draco slowly pulled away and pulled some tissues off the table, handing them to Harry who was rubbing his face.

"Not with your _hands_ , Harry." Draco chastised him gently, pulling the boy's hands away and dabbing his face carefully with the tissues. He might still be sore from the effects of the Cruciatus, just like Draco was at that moment, but was ignoring. Harry sat there, letting Draco clean his face completely unresponsive.

When Draco was done, he handed Harry a glass of water and watched the boy gulp it down.

"Okay?" He asked after the glass was empty, taking it from Harry's hands and setting it aside. Harry nodded slightly, and Draco patted him on the back. "Good. You need the energy. Something to eat?" He asked hopefully, knowing Harry could be a bit fussy about food.

"Not hungry." Harry said, and Draco tutted.

"Too bad, I'm afraid. It's either me or Pomfrey who's going to make you." Draco said lightly, but meaning it either way.

"Fine. Whatever." Harry mumbled noncommittally.

Draco quickly left to retrieve Madam Pomfrey and let her know Harry was awake and needed something to eat.

"How are you here? He shouldn't have visitors." The woman first said, and Draco cursed himself. He was supposed to be undercover! 

"Uh, Dumbledore said I could. For Harry's, uh… _mental_ wellbeing." He glanced to the side. "Just ask him!" He meant to gesture to the Sirius, but the man was unfortunately in his Animagus form and Draco just looked like an idiot telling his teacher to talk to a _dog_. "Er…Right. He just needs a friend-"

"Enough of your stuttering, boy. You may stay but _not_ intervene with my treatment or stress out my patient, do you understand?" The woman said harshly, making Draco's posture straighten out of habit.

"Yes, ma'am." He said, and she huffed and walked away to summon some food from the kitchens.

Soon, Pomfrey levitated a tray on to Harry's bed, with even a plate for Draco, sitting at the foot of his bed. Harry looked considerably calmed down, and even smiled briefly at Draco when he reentered the curtains.

His smile fell, however, when his eyes saw the food in front of him. Draco watched him carefully, about to coax in to eating some of it before voices rang out from behind the curtains.

"Padfoot!" A female voice said. Draco blanched and looked at Harry, stricken with fear. The boy looked back, but Merlin he was _smiling_.

"Oh, where is he? I do hope he's awake!" A worried female voice said.

"He woke up not long ago, you should definitely go see him." He heard Sirius's voice say coolly, the _bastard_.

Draco's body flooded with fear. Could he run? Hide? Shit. Why did he leave the Invisibility Cloak in the corner…

He was just about to bolt before Harry kicked him with his foot. "Stay." He said, with a steely look In his eyes. Damn, now Draco was _frozen_.

The curtain whipped open, and a three people came rushing in. He recognised Weasley, Granger and a middle-aged woman he assumed was Ronald's mother. Draco immediately scrambled up the bed next to Harry, almost dislodging the food on to the floor. He wouldn't get hexed if he was next to Harry, would he? Merlin, he was so _fucked_.

"Harry!" The woman rushed to him and wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug that had Draco leaning away in order to not get bumped over. Harry hugged her deeply, eyes closed and a single tear rolling down his face.

"Malfoy?" Weasley's voice rang out. He looked at the boy and smiled awkwardly. 

"Er, hi." Was all he could say. He took the time to glare at Sirius behind them, whom was grinning maniacally like a smug bastard. 

"What are you-" 

"I…Long story." He said, watching as Granger and Mrs. Weasley took turns hugging and talking to Harry in soft murmurs Draco didn't bother to listen in on.

The older woman finally spotted him from Harry's side, frowning when she saw him. "And you are?" She said.

"Draco Malfoy, Mrs. Weasley." Harry spoke before he could, then turned to address Weasley and Granger, "He saved my life last night."

Draco felt his cheeks burn, and could tell he was flushing horribly. "I didn't really- It was just I got captured-"

"He threw himself in front of me when I was about to be cursed. I owe him my life." Harry said resolutely. Was this the same person crying in his arms a while ago?

Draco rubbed his face, not wanting to look up out of pure embarrassment. 

"Wow." He heard Weasley say. Draco looked up and saw the boy was actually looking at him in _awe_. Granger right behind him had bloody tears in her eyes.

Within a second, Mrs. Weasley rounded the bed to his side and pulled him in to a crushing hug of his own. He glared at Harry over her shoulder, whom was smiling brightly. Draco sighed. He guessed he'd bear with the circus a little longer if it made Harry happy.

Draco coughed when the woman pulled back, feeling all the attention on him, "Er, It was nothing. We're both alive now and that's good. Uh…and…" He paused, his mouth suddenly dry. "I'm sorry for how I have offended your family and antagonized after your… _financial_ situation these past few years. I simply repeated the remarks my father would say, but I know that they're wrong now and I'd just like to apologise for myself." He said the words before he could think about them, but felt an immense amount of relief after (even if he did feel like throwing up as well).

The group was all silent for a moment before the woman gasped, "Oh, you! Aren't you a sweet thing! And risking your life for our dear Harry here!" She pulled Draco in to another suffocating hug. "It's quite alright now, dear. I know Ronald's talked about you in the past, but he obviously over reached on your character."

"Er, no I was pretty bad." He said sheepishly, and heard Weasley snigger. 

"Well, it's so good that you're friends with Harry, Ron and Hermione now. I always did think those three were a little unbalanced. You even out the three." She said, causing a horrified look on both Draco and Weasley's faces.

"Er, mum. He's not-" Weasley started, but his mother cut him off with hands on her hips.

"Now, Ron. You will be nice to Draco from now on, won't you? I think saving Harry's life is far more than enough to make up for his past aggressions."

Ronald went satisfyingly red, and Draco just held back a smirk. 

"I am sorry, though." Draco said, looking at both Weasley and Granger, "For everything I've done…Especially to you, Granger. The things I've said and that one time I jinxed you last year…You did punch me though."

"It's alright, Malfoy." The girl said, "Harry told us you weren't as…fond of your past actions. But you did deserve the punch, by the way." She said with a malicious glint in her eyes. Draco flushed and nodded quickly, looking away. He'd never apologised so much in his life except for that one time to Harry himself. It was both freeing and incredibly uncomfortable because every instinct of pride he'd been brought up with screamed at him to stop.

But he knew he had to do it now, if not later. If he wanted to be different from his father, he needed to go about mending those rifts his family had caused. He was doing it for himself, mostly, not his sham of a bigot dad. If it made Harry happy too, then why not? 

"Draco." Harry whispered to him, and he leaned in. "Can I talk to Ron and Hermione for a bit?" He looked at him knowingly, and Draco understood that they needed to discuss things about the events of the past night. Draco nodded and patted Harry's knee, bumping on the tray of food and remembering it was there.

"Eat some first, though." He gestured to the food and Harry wrinkled his nose. 

"Oi. Shall I call Pomfrey?" Draco said threateningly. Harry glared at him and Draco continued, "Because you need to take one more round of potions. Don't think I don't know you have a sore throat. And let's not forget Pomfrey will have my _head_ -"

"Alright!" Harry exclaimed. "God, you're insufferable."

"I don't care." Draco said, pulling Harry's plate towards him and breaking up the sandwich in to smaller pieces. He didn't quite understand it, but Harry seemed to be able to eat whenever he did that for him. "Now have six of these and then take those potions-" He pointed at the vials lined up on the table next to them, "-and you're sore throat should even out. The others are for the nerve damage and the sensitivity." Draco said blandly, not acknowledging the painful memories of where his injuries came from. 

"Does yours hurt too?" Harry asked worriedly, reaching for one of the pieces of the sandwich.

"Just a little. Now eat." Draco got off the bed and stretched. He yawned, and realised the room was too silent. He looked around, and- shit. Everyone had been watching. Weasley's eyes were wide and Granger just stared. 

"Er, right. I'll just be outside while you guys…" He trailed off and looked at the woman next to him. "Care to join me, Mrs. Weasley? I'm sure you have many lovely stories about Ronald here." The boy blanched as Draco sauntered out, Mrs. Weasley following behind. 

"Please, dear. Call me Molly."

Draco smirked. "Of course, Molly. Lovely to have finally met you."

"Bollocks." Weasley's voice cursed behind him.


	22. The Vow

After the Weasley's and Granger left, with much hugging and hushed words, Draco slumped down on to the end of Harry's bed, completely spent.

"Molly is a pleasure, but I'll be glad to never hear about my 'peakiness' every again. I tried to tell her, but she just _doesn't_ believe it's genetic."

Harry smiled, "Wait till she tries to feed you six courses in one sitting."

Draco groaned and Harry chuckled. He looked considerably better after his the Weasley's came to see him, and Draco was glad to see he didn't look quite on edge as earlier.

"Thank you. For what you said today." Harry said, fiddling with a loose string on the blanket covering his lap, "I'm glad you're…making amends, and stuff now. I know your families have had some animosity for a long time."

Draco felt his cheeks heat. "That's why I did it. I figured if I do the complete opposite of what my father wants, I won't end up like him." He said, not realising how sad it sounded until he said it out loud. "And the Weasley's aren't bad people, actually. I think I was rather just a bit…jealous, to say, of them."

"Jealous?" Harry asked, surprised. 

Draco nodded, feeling slightly shy, "Of Ronald mostly, when I saw them all on the platform the first day we were going to Hogwarts. They were so many of them, and they stood out so much. I saw Molly dote on all of them before boarded the train, straightening clothes out, fixing their hair. She wasn't necessarily…fixing them in the sense of correcting them, but cleaning them up. Fussing. It was the first time I realised that you could be…compassionate and caring rather than curt like my parents were to me."

"Even your mother?"

"My mother is…she does love me, I think. She just isn't as ominous about her affections. We never hug or anything like that….Oh shit. Look at me complaining about my _parents_." Draco smacked his forehead. "I'm so bloody obtuse. I'm sorry, Harry."

Luckily, Harry didn't seem to mind. "It's alright, it's interesting to hear. I never thought about it that way, to be honest. So you were jealous of the Weasley's because, what, they were affectionate?"

"Uh, yeah. Essentially. I guess I just saw Ronald and his brothers being cared for so carefreely, and I realised I didn't have that. Mind you, I was a brat-"

"Was?" Harry laughed.

"Don't start, Potter." Draco admonished, the continued, "I suddenly saw something I didn't have, and it made eleven year old Draco terribly confused and angsty."

"And a prick." Harry supplied.

"Yes, and a prick. Anything else?"

Harry laughed, "I'd rather not. We'd be here all night."

"Better not then." Draco said, smiling wryly at the other boy. A comfortable silence settled between them, but discomfort was still nudging the back of his head. He cleared his throat then asked tentatively, "How are you?"

Harry stayed silent for a moment, his face immediately dispelling itself on any prior carefreeness. "I try not to think about it." He looked away from Draco.

"You have to at some point." Draco said gently.

"Not Cedric." Harry bit out. "Everything else, maybe. But not him. I can't stop blaming myself otherwise."

Draco didn't saw anything for a moment, then patted Harry's knee in a familiar gesture. "It's alright. You're doing the best you can for the moment, and that's good."

Harry nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "What do we do now, though."

"Nothing much we can do. Nothing much _you_ can do, most of all. Just let Dumbledore work it out on his own for now, alright?" Draco knew he was telling Harry to do the opposite of what Dumbledore said , but he couldn't get past the fact that it shouldn't be on Harry's shoulders at all. "And I've been thinking of what you said a few months ago-"

"Christ, a few months?" Harry said incredulously.

"It was significant!" Draco said indignantly. He brushed a stray lock of hair from his face with a huff, "And as I was saying, I'll remind you that a few months ago you said something about our agreement."

A tense silence fell for a moment. "What about it." Harry said seriously.

"You said that I needed to prove that I'll honour my promise to not turn on you and provide whatever information I could. Magic something up for us."

Harry's face softened, "I don't think that applies anymore, Draco. I know you mean it now."

Draco wrung his hands together in his lap. "I understand. But I do still think it's a good idea to have something that's magically binding. Not for the sake of trust but the sake of safety."

Harry quirked his head, "Meaning?"

Draco took a deep breath, "I looked in to it after you mentioned it. I never had the time to really talk about it, to be honest, but I came across something that might be useful a few months ago. It's something called a Fidelius Charm."

"Fidelius." Harry repeated, clearly not knowing what it was.

"Yes." Draco threw his mind back to what it said about the spell in the book he had found it in, "A Fidelius Charm is an extremely difficult, multifaceted and potent charm that can be used to conceal a secret inside an individual's soul." Harry's eyebrows drew up in surprise, and Draco continued, "The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find — unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it."

"Woah." Harry said, "So like, nobody else will know?"

"As is the function of a _secret_ , Potter." Draco glared at him. "But essentially, yes. Say you were the Secret-Keeper for me. You would keep my secret, and only be able to divulge it to whomever you want _voluntarily_. Nobody would be able to force you to share the secret, not even through methods of coercion such as Veritaserum, Leglimency, the Cruciatus Curse or the Imperius Curse."

"And if I want to share it?"

"Then those you share it with will become Secondary-Keepers. Secondary-Keepers can't share the secret at all, even if they wanted to. It's only you- why are you _smiling_?" Draco snapped at Harry's twitching grin. The boy only smiled wider when he asked.

"Uh, nothing. You just remind me of Hermione." He said sheepishly. Draco stared at him for a moment blankly before shaking his head and continuing. 

"Right. Well, say theoretically then, you kept my secret of my involvement in your affairs."

"So only I would know you were…wait, what even are you?" Harry asked curiously.

Draco thought for a moment, tapping his finger erratically on his leg. "Well, Dumbledore seems to think I'm some sort of…mole, for him." He admitted.

"What, like a spy?" Harry asked.

"I don't know what that is." Draco said flatly, "But what I assume he meant is I sort of…play along on both sides."

"But you're not really playing along on our side." Harry added. Draco nodded and Harry finished, "You're actually on our side, but you're pretending you're not so you can get information from _their_ side."

" _Their_ side being Voldemort's." Draco said, and at Harry's shocked look added, "Oh, please Potter. Some things are worse than saying that damn name." 

"Right." Harry said slowly, "So what's the secret going to be? It's got to be right, otherwise…I don't really know. I'm kind of confused right now."

"Of course you are." Draco said curtly, "That's why I'm here. All we have to do is determine what we absolutely can not let people like my father find out about me."

"Like how we're friends."

"Yes, like that. That and how I don't believe in the traditional pureblood ideologies, and how I don't support the Dark Lord- sorry, Voldemort."

"Isn't that all a little…too much?" Harry said slowly.

"Not if I phrase it right. Nor if I sum it all up at once, somehow. We just need to make it so I'm as versatile as possible." Draco said quickly, speaking faster than he could think. "So even if they captured you or me, they'd never be able to find out the truth even if it was staring at them in the face. Hell, we could be in the same bloody room kissing each other and they'd never know!" He grinned to himself, thoughts flying around his head. "A secret-keeper keeps it inside their _soul_ ," He looked up at Harry, pupils blown but not quite even looking at him properly, "And who better than Harry Potter to carry mine."

Harry stiffened, hands clenching the blanket covering him. "Are…are you sure?" He asked cautiously. "Like really, _actually_ sure?"

"Never been surer in my life." Draco said, the dazed grin on his face faded. "We can do it. Come on, Harry." He looked at him intently, hoping he understood how important it was to Draco. "If not for you, then for me. I'll be at the Manor this summer…my father will be there. I'm not sure what he has in store for me yet, but I need the reassurance. I'm not….brave, like you are."

"But it'll be me keeping the secret, Draco." Harry argued. 

Draco took an uneasy gulp, feeling discomfort from it because of how dry his mouth felt. "I know that. That's just another part of the plan."

"What? Bloody hell, Draco. Tell me everything at once. _All of it._ " Harry said irritably.

"You will become my Secret-Keeper," Draco said, "And in turn I will swear an Unbreakable Vow. To you."

Harry's eyes widened, "Unbreakable." He repeated.

Draco nodded grimly, "It's a magically binding contract, and if either one breaks it, will result in their death. So, unless I'm stupid enough to kill myself with the slip of a tongue, I'll never be able to say anything without a consequence. The weight of that alone will help me not give in to the temptation of telling anyone. It's the best we can do to keep each other safe. I will vow my loyalty to you, and any betrayal will kill me. Will that work for you?"

Harry stared at him for a long time, "Has this been done before?" He asked.

Draco avoided his gaze, "Not exactly." He said quietly.

"You mean not at all." Harry sighed. "Right. So you're proposing a series of complex magic, one that has the possibility of _killing_ you, in order to hide the fact that you're a spy for the Death Eaters, friends with me and also to ensure you don't actually side with said Death Eaters. Do I have that right?"

"Er, yes." Draco said. "That's pretty much it."

"And you're okay with not only casting two powerful spells on the both of us at the same time, but entrusting me with being your - what was it called, Secret-Keeper?" Draco nodded and he continued, "Right. Trusting me with being your Secret-keeper, as well as accepting the fact that if you betray me, you will die. Do I have everything?"

"I'd say so, yes."

"You'd say so." Harry said flatly. "And you're completely, one-hundred percent sure?"

"Not, uh- no, not one-hundred. More about sixty eight percent." Draco said.

"Sixty-eight percent." Harry repeated in disbelief.

"Yes. Nothing is done at one-hundred percent, Potter. I'd say sixty-eight percent are good chances. Nothing can be done without risk, you should know that."

Harry blew out a tired exhale, slumping back against the headboard of the bed. "I do know that." He said resignedly. 

"And you'll understand how important this is." Draco prompted.

"I do, Draco, and I'm not doubting your idea, I hope you know that. What I'm trying to get at is do _you_ know what you're getting in to. Do _you_ understand what this all implies."

Draco began to speak, but Harry held up a hand to finish speaking, "You intend to spy on _Voldemort_ ," He iterated sharply, "Do you know how dangerous that sounds already? I was alright with it a few months ago because there _was_ no Voldemort. It was just your dad, and maybe a couple of other shady guys your dad hung out with. Now it's real, Draco. It's purposely putting yourself in harms way every moment you're around them." Draco noticed his hands beginning to wring in his lap. "You didn't…" Harry voice cracked and he turned his head away from Draco. "He killed him _immediately_ , Draco." He said, his voice quavering slightly that made Draco's heart sink. "Do you know what he said before he did it?" Draco assumed Harry was talking about Cedric. "He said _kill the spare_." Harry bit out, "That's how it's going to be from now on. He will without a second of hesitation, with a bit of doubt, _kill you_ if anyone finds out. Do you understand?"

"Of course I understand!" Draco said sharply, "Who do you think I am? You don't think I haven't thought about this, Harry? Because I have! In full, back through front and sideways! Ever since I was tortured under Cruciatus because I rejected that madman's ideologies, all I've thought about was doing this because it's the only way to go forward so I don't become just like _him!_ " His voice steadily as he spoke, and Harry looked back at him angrily with furrowed eyebrows and clenched fists. 

"If I don't do this," Draco said, his voice now low and tightly controlled, "I will have no choice, Harry. I _will_ become a Death Eater, just like my father. I _will_ work for the Dark Lord and I will oppose you and your side. If I don't have this role, my place in this war will seat itself next to my father, so _please_ ," Draco was embarrassed to hear his voice crack slightly, hear it sound so pleading and _desperate_ , "Please just let me do this, Harry." He shut his eyes tightly, willing away the way they stung when opened, "I can do this. I need to do this. I don't know who I'll become otherwise, so _please_ ," He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, wondering momentarily why his vision was blurry, "Trust me, join the vow. Be my Secret-Keeper, because I've said it once before, I'd rather die like this than die as a Death Eater." He felt warmth on his cheeks, realising there were tears rolling down his face.

He felt Harry's stare on his skin, and they were quiet for a moment. He quickly wiped his cheeks, wondering if Harry saw, or just decided not to comment.

Then Harry sighed, long and deep as if sought out from a bone deep kind of tired. "Alright, fine." He exhaled, "We'll do it."

"Really?" Draco's chest bloomed with anticipation.

"Only the vow." Harry cut him off, and Draco scowled. "The Fedora-"

" _Fidelius_ " Draco snapped.

"Right, whatever. The Fidelius spell I'll have to think about for now. Can you survive like that?" Harry asked curtly. Draco's scowl deepened and he crossed his arms with a huff.

"Fine." He bit out. "I'm not dropping it, though. Don't think I'll forget." He reprimanded. 

The corners of Harry's mouth twitched slightly, "Of course." He said. "Now how do we get this Vow sorted?"

Draco's mouth curled involuntarily in to a smile. "Well the spell requires a bonder, and I know just the person who can bond us right now."

"Right now? Who, Pomfrey?" Harry scoffed.

Draco's smile grew wider, and Harry slightly blanched at that. 

"Sirius!" Draco called out. "Would you mind coming inside for a bit?" His smile turned in to a smirk, "Harry needs your help with something."


	23. Only time will tell

Harry stood across Draco at an arm's length away. Sirius paced the floor of the empty Hospital Wing next to them, muttering to himself.

"Sirius?" Harry asked tentatively. The man didn’t stop pacing, and Harry and Draco shared an uneasy look. Draco looked back at Sirius and sharply cleared his throat, causing the him to finally look up.

"Right." Sirius's eyes were glazed over quite a bit, "Let's start shall we?" He readjusted his coat and walked to them so he stood to their side. He pulled out his wand, and cleared his throat. "And you're quite sure you want to do this?"

Harry saw Draco's eyes narrow at the man, and he interjected before the other boy could possibly say something rude, "Yes. We're sure." He pulled his most reassuring smile, but could tell Sirius could see through it easily from the unamused look in his eyes. It had taken half an hour alone to convince Sirius to be their bonder, but with a lot of whining on Harry's part and pestering drawls from Draco, he finally relented. It wasn't quite as hard after they finally explained what exactly the bond was about.

"Right." Sirius braced himself and held up his wand. Draco cleared his throat and Harry saw him raise an eyebrow at his already raised hand.

"My hand, Potter." He said, gesturing to it with his eyes. Harry quickly complied, grabbing Draco's right arm with his own with a tight grip. Sirius touched the tip of his wand to the point where their hands met, and he felt a thrum of magic he was too distracted to think about because of Draco grimacing in front of him. 

"What?" Harry hissed.

"Your hand." Draco hissed back. "Why is it so bloody _clammy_?"

"I'm nervous, you pillock! We're about to bind ourselves with a very powerful-"

" _Oi_." Sirius interjected, glancing nervously between the two. "Are we doing this or-"

"Yes!" Both Harry and Draco yelled. "Just do it." Draco spat. 

Sirius glared at him, then muttered an incantation under his breath that Harry didn't recognise. When Draco had asked earlier if he knew the spell, Sirius had agreed immediately with a sad look in his eyes which Harry didn't understand.

Harry immediately felt a strange sensation from where his and Draco's hands met. Tightening his grip curiously, he felt the faint thrum of magic beneath Draco's skin as if he were holding his wand. It was unfamiliar, and felt slightly like that time when he held Draco's Hawthorn wand by the lake.

"Harry." Sirius whispered. "The clauses." 

Harry shook himself and begun to recite the words Draco had told him to say a few minutes earlier with a shaky voice. "Will you, Draco Malfoy, vow to never willingly betray information to Voldemort, his followers or anyone else that may mean harm that could be sensitive and-or crucial in acting against me, Dumbledore or any of our allies?"

"I will." Draco said, his voice stone cold and not a hint of uncertainty beneath them. A thin tongue of brilliant flame issued from the wand and wound its way around their hands like a red-hot wire.

"And will you, under your best ability, act under pretenses for Voldemort and his followers but never willingly part take in their cause unless under threat of harm or your life?"

"I will." Another lick of flame wove itself around them. Harry felt the sensation under his hands becoming more and more prominent.

"And will you reveal any and all information about Voldemort and his followers to me, Dumbledore or our allies, granted your safety is secured first?"

"I will." A third wire joined the first two. Their hands were almost completely encased in the writhing magic, and the red light danced off of Draco's pale complexion. His grey eyes seemed to absorb the colour, giving him an uncomfortable likeness to Voldemort that made Harry want to run away immediately at that moment. He only gripped Draco's hand tighter, knowing how important it was at that moment that they carried out this bond. He paused for a moment as the magic buzzed around them and lit up the dark room. The thrum in Draco's hand felt like an anchor, his mind feeling clearer than it'd been in days. It was supposed to be over; Harry had said all the vows discussed, but the air of anticipation around him made Draco and Sirius hesitate too, watching him. He gave himself no time to think about it before he begun to add a fourth and final clause on the spot.

"And will you, to your best ability, put your own safety first even if it meant harm becoming of me instead?"

Draco gasped sharply and Sirius stiffened beside them. 

" _Harry_." Draco hissed, but Harry just stared shook his head and stared at him determinedly. 

"Will you, Draco?" He repeated, maybe even a bit louder than before. The red wires danced between them, and he knew he must have looked a sight as their red light sent daunting shadows over his face.

Draco gulped, glaring at Harry angrily but never breaking eye-contact. "I will." He bit out, his grip on Harry's hand bordering on painful. A fourth flame ignited and wrapped their conjoined hands. Sirius muttered something under his breath again, then the wires were gone, and the hum of magic between their hands ceased.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Draco snarled immediately, retracting his hand away from Harry's.

"I regret nothing." Harry shot back, rubbing his right hand with the phantom feeling of magic on his skin.

"You're a fool, Harry." Draco spat, "That wasn't what we agreed-"

" _Draco._ " Sirius objected warningly. "Remember what I said earlier." He hissed, immediately making Draco's eyes retract their venom slightly. Harry looked between the two, sensing some sort of unspoken agreement he wasn't apart of. He didn't press it further, just glad it got Draco off his back.

"Well it's done now." Draco said irritably, "And it's getting late. Thank you, Sirius." He bowed slightly, causing Sirius's eyebrows to shoot up and glance at Harry amusedly. He shrugged back and followed Draco as he went to retrieve the Invisibility Cloak he'd thrown in to a corner. The boy was muttering under his breath to himself in a huff, and Harry watched in silence as he threw the cloak over himself.

"Do feel free to use my cloak." He offered amusedly, crossing his arms and looking in the direction Draco had just disappeared in. He was met with silence, and he rolled his eyes. "You're going to leave me like this?" He asked innocently, before he felt a poke in his side which he greeted with an embarrassing yelp.

"Is that a proper goodbye for you?" Draco's voice sounded beside him. Harry rubbed his side with a huff and saw a layer of the room peel back as Draco's head revealed itself. The git still looked tiffed off, but Harry could spot a small twitch in the corner of his mouth.

"I would hug you, but I don't particularly want to look like I regularly engage in embracing air." Harry surmised.

"My, what a shame." Draco sighed sarcastically, "A loss for me, really."

"Shut it." Harry aimed a foot in the direction of Draco's legs, and was pleased to find they hit some sort of mark.

"Fuck!" Draco disappeared under the Cloak again, "Damn you, Harry" He hissed. Harry chuckled and took a few steps back in case the other boy decided to retaliate. "I'll be going now, you prick." He heard Draco grumble. "I'll get your cloak back to you somehow." 

Harry nodded, "The train?"

"Too many people." The voice replied.

"Draco, the cloak is _invisible._ " Harry admonished.

"Oh, shut up, Potter! You're insufferably intolerable!" The voice was farther away now, and Harry saw the privacy screens around his bed lift up. "See you _later_." He heard, and could clearly imagine the smug little sneer Draco probably had on his face to go with it. Prick.

"Bye, Draco." Harry heard Sirius call out. 

"Yeah." Draco grumbled back, and he was gone.

-o-o-

It had been easier for Harry to just forget the events of that night while Draco had been around, but as soon as he left and Harry was laid up in his hospital bed once again, the curling anxiety came back and settled in his stomach. He stared at the blank ceiling above him, letting his eyes go out of focus and blur the lights together.

He didn't want to think about any of it, so he didn't.

The next day, he was let out of the Hospital Wing. The entire school was due to go back home as well, so the timing was infuriatingly perfect in that he was forced to sit through the final meal in the Great Hall with everyone else before embarking that afternoon.

He walked in to the Great Hall with eyes cast on his shoes, and blocked out the hushed whispers as he passed the tables. He felt a hand come around him when he reached the Gryffindor table, feeling bushy hair tickling his neck and relaxing when he realised it was Hermione.

Without a word, she steered him in to a seat surrounded by Ron, Neville, Ginny , Fred and George and a couple of other of his Gryffindor classmates. Nobody said a word to him, except for Ron's quick clap on the back and a short "Welcome back, mate."

Harry kept his head down throughout majority of the meal, eating in short bursts under the watchful eye of Hermione next to him as his friends filled in the silence he was in with their usual banter. He didn't look up at Draco once, despite the habitual urge to.

Then Dumbledore gave his speech, and Harry wanted nothing more than to be anywhere else.

"…in the light of Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open."

He glanced at Draco briefly when Dumbledore said that, and found him staring right back. His hands were clasped in front of himself and his body was turned to the front, but his eyes were on Harry. His expression didn't change from the blank mask he had on, but Harry saw the briefest twitch of his head. His eyes were back at the front within an instant, and Harry looked down when he realised the amount of stares he could feel prickling on his skin. Majority, he realised, were coming from the Hufflepuff table, and he couldn't help the bubbling of nausea rising in his stomach. He immediately regretted eating anything at all, and his muscles felt tense as if coiled to run away within a moments notice.

After what felt like years, the meal was over and students were being taken to the Hogwarts Express. Ron and his other dorm mates had helped Harry pack his things before he returned to their dormitory, and he smiled gratefully at all of them. It helped that he didn't really have many belongings to begin with, having only acquired a few more chocolate frogs and the miniature Hungarian Horntail from the tournament over the course of the year. It blew a billow of angry flames when he picked it up off his bedside table, finally settling when he pet it on the head with a huff of smoke out of it's nostrils. Harry almost smiled at it when it did, then put it in to his trunk at the very bottom and hoped nothing crushed it. He wasn't quite sure if it was really alive or not.

He joined Ron and Hermione in the Common Room, where they waited with tense smiles as if waiting for him to fall over and break like a fragile piece of glass. He grit his teeth and said nothing about it, barely returning the smiles they gave and juggling his trunk and Hedwig's cage, where the bird was hooting irritably. 

"You will write, won't you, Harry?" Hermione asked next to him as the three walked.

"Of course." He replied, and he meant it. He didn't know how he would have gotten through the summer's with the Dursley's without their letters.

"I won't." Ron scoffed. Hermione rolled her eyes but still smiled warmly, throwing her arms around him and Ron.

"Ow! Blimey Hermione, you're crushi-"

"We'll see each other soon, won't we? Over the summer?" Hermione said over Ron. Harry nodded and Ron just scoffed again but muttered a pained, "Yes."

"That's good." Hermione said. She squeezed them together again, arm digging in to Harry's neck far longer than necessary. He looked up at her to the side, and saw her looking back with a strange look in her eyes. "We'll be together in no time." She said lightly, but the look in her eyes had more weight in contrast, her arm crushing him as if he might disappear.

Harry used a hand to squeeze her arm in response, realising the strange look in Hermione's eyes was unbridled worry, as if she couldn't quite assure herself that Harry was really there. He then realised that at some point in the last two days, she may have feared the opposite for a while. That he may have not come back at all.

"Yeah." He said, giving her a light smile. He wasn't going anywhere. 

-o-o-

Having found a compartment on the train with all of his friends, it slipped Harry's mind that he had yet to get back his Invisibility Cloak. It wasn't until an hour in to the journey that he finally remembered, and hastily shot up out of his seat when he did.

"Harry?" Hermione asked immediately.

"Bathroom." He pointed outside accordingly, giving her an unconvincing smile for show. Her eyes glinted with understanding, and she nodded casually, looking back down at her book as Ron and their friends continued a game of exploding snap without questioning him.

He slipped out of the compartment, looking down both ways and was relieved to see no on there. He then begun to stalk down to one side where he knew the Slytherins sat. Trying his best not to look too ominous, he glanced in to each compartment as he passed, earning himself more than a few scathing looks. 

He passed through until he saw Parkinson and another boy - Blasé, he remembered proudly - sat alone. Harry slowed down, but couldn't stop completely in front of the window. From his passing glance, he didn't see any sign Draco was there. Bugger. He continued until the amount of students started to trickle and until he reached the empty compartments, but there was still no sign of the git.

Just as he was about to turn back, one of the compartment doors slid open and he was yanked roughly by the collar inside. His wand was in his hand in an instant, but he immediately laid eyes on Draco pulling the Cloak over his head with his hands raised and empty.

"I'm sorry. It's just me." He said immediately in a placating tone, eyeing Harry's wand. 

Harry blew out a sharp breath, pocketing it. "You scared me." He remarked.

"I didn't want anyone to see." Draco answered sheepishly, a hint of red blooming on his cheeks.

"And throwing me in to a train compartment is…" Harry trailed off questioningly, crossing his arms with a glare and feeling his pulse still racing.

"Right." Draco fumbled with the Cloak, trying his best to fold it despite it's…invisibility. "Sorry again. Here." He handed it to Harry with both hands, eyes averted. Harry took it from him, slinging a bit over his shoulder. 

"You can wear it to get back." Draco explained, holding his hands behind his back that Harry could tell he was nervously wringing.

"For someone to see Harry Potter walk in and Draco Malfoy walk out?" Harry asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. 

"They'll expect Polyjuice before anything else, so we'll be fine." Draco said with a tentative smile, finally glancing at Harry. 

"Right." Harry said slowly, studying Draco. "Are you alright?" 

"Me?" Draco put a hand to his chest dramatically, "Why, of course. What makes you think otherwise?" He smiled unconvincingly and Harry narrowed his eyes.

"What did you do?" He asked flatly.

Draco's eyes widened, "Nothing, I swear! I just…" He trailed off again, his hands fumbling in front of him.

"You have something to say?" Harry finished for him, surmising so from the way Draco struggled to say anything at all.

"Uh…Yes." Draco admitted. "I just wanted to ask if you'll be alright…going back home for the summer." 

"Home?" Harry quirked his head, then he realised what Draco meant. "Oh, you meant my aunt and uncle's."

"Yes. Muggles, right?" Draco asked slowly, and Harry nodded. It just occurred to him that Draco didn't know anything about how his summer's with the Dursley's went. Locked in his room, scarce servings of food and the only contact to the outside world through Hedwig and his friends. For all Draco knew, Harry went home to a bunch of ignorant, blissful muggles. He probably even thought they _liked_ him. He felt a slight discomfort when he remembered that Draco probably had a large pureblood manor to go to and Harry just had Dudley's second bedroom to contend with for two months. 

He cleared his throat nervously and replied, "Er, yeah. My mom's sister."

"Right." Draco wrung his hands some more, and Harry felt a moment of irritation when it looked like the other boy _still_ had something more to say. He tapped his fingers on his arm impatiently where they were crossed, and Draco luckily noticed. "Merlin." Draco pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "I just wanted to ask if you'll be okay." He said quickly.

Harry started to panic. "Why wouldn't I?" Did Draco know about them? 

"No, I meant…Merlin. Don't get mad for what I'm about to say, okay? It's a simple question and I mean no harm by it, but I have to ask. You know how I feel about muggles now."

"I don't actually, but go on." Harry said obligingly, earning a glare from Draco.

"So many things…" Draco muttered to himself, then continued to Harry, "Will you be okay without any Witches or Wizards this summer? Around your muggle family, to be specific. They may not…understand what happened this year, right? What you've been through?"

"They won't." Harry confirmed calmly with a nod. "I don't think they'll even care."

"I- what? They won't care?" Draco spluttered. Harry only nodded again, nonplussed, and Draco continued to stumble over his words. "So-if they ask what you did the whole year? What do they think you've been doing for nine months?"

"They won't ask." Harry shrugged.

"Come again?"

"I said they won't ask." Harry repeated. "They don't care."

Draco spent a good minute opening and closing his mouth periodically with failed words escaping him, which Harry honestly found mildly amusing. 

"I…erm." Draco trailed off, looking the most inarticulate Harry had seen him yet. "Right." He said bluntly with a hint of fake nonchalance, "And why would they…not care, exactly?"

Harry grimaced slightly, definitely not wanting to open up _that_ can of worms right now. "They don't like me. Could we just leave it at that? I'm really tired."

"Uh, okay." Draco crossed his arms a little _too_ casually. "Okay. They don't like you." His face turned sour suddenly, " _Dumbledore_ " He hissed under his breath.

"What about him?" 

"Nothing." Draco said quickly, acting as odd as he'd been for the last ten minutes. "Just remembered something."

"Right…" Harry said, unconvinced, but let it lie. "What about you? Merlin, I forgot you had to go back to your-"

"Don't bother, Potter." Draco cut him off with a raised hand. "Don't worry about me. I can handle him."

"Are you sure? You know that he was…" He trailed off knowingly.

" _Yes_ , Harry. I know enough. I said I could handle him, and I can alright?" Draco snapped, his face immediately filling with regret after.

"Oh. Erm, sorry." Harry muttered, feeling stupid for pressing Draco about his father when it wasn't really any of his business.

"No, I'm sorry." Draco said, his tone softer than before. "I shouldn't have said it like that. I don't want to fight before we leave." He was looking at Harry so damn _earnestly_ that he begun to wonder if someone had been polyjuicing as Draco for the last six months. Sometimes he woke up still thinking Draco was _Malfoy_. 

"It's fine." Harry felt his face heating up and he looked away to the window where the highlands blurred past. 

It wasn't until he felt Draco's arms completely around him did he realise he was being _hugged_. By _Draco Malfoy_.

His arms came up instinctively around Draco's waist, and he couldn't help but sink in to the embrace before he could even think about it. He dropped his head on to Draco's shoulder until his forehead was pressed to it.

"Who's embracing air now." Harry muttered in to Draco's shoulder, and he felt a slight huff of laughter.

"Don't get used to this." Draco said back, "Ever."

"Okay." Harry said, busy unwittingly enjoying the warmth of Draco's body encasing him. He realised they were swaying slightly in place together, and fought back a smile. The whole thing was so bizarre that he didn't really want to look in to it too much at all. "Never again."

"Now you got it." For some reason, Harry could hear the smile on Draco's face while he said it and he finally broke one of his own. He buried his face deeper in to Draco's shoulder to hide it, and felt the other boy tense up slightly.

"Potter." He said softly, tapping him on the back slightly. Harry drew back immediately, thrown back in to reality like a cold splash of water.

"Sorry." He said immediately, stepping away and shoving his hands in his pockets.

"It's fine." Draco said with a smile, the unspoken words coming with the look on his face: _Stop saying sorry._ "I just don't…hug a lot. Or any of that stuff in general." He said sheepishly, looking away slightly with a slush in his cheeks.

"Me neither." Harry matched his awkwardness unfortunately, and cursed himself for looking like a prat with his hands shoved so far deep his trousers they might as well be peeking out the hems.

"Well that works out then." Draco said with a scoff. "I do mean it, though. Never again." 

Harry narrowed his eyes, "We'll see." 

Draco swatted him with a hand and begun to saunter past him as if the prick hadn't just been hugging him like Hufflepuff. He slid the compartment open and stopped just before leaving, looking back. "See you soon, okay?"

Harry nodded, noting the concern in Draco's eyes that wasn't unlike the way Hermione looked at him sometimes. "I'll be fine."

Draco stared at him for a few moments more before nodding silently and leaving, the compartment door sliding until it was shut. Harry gathered up his Cloak and draped it around himself, stepping out a few minutes after Draco and breezing his way down the hall.

He checked his watch, a cracked, faded thing he'd found under the bed in Dudley's second bedroom in Second Year. 

_One hour left, _He thought. He felt a slight discomfort. It had been there ever since that night. He couldn't help but feel like he was running out of time for something, but he didn't know what. Every day at the Dursley's would be a day to bide his time before Voldemort started to attack.__

__He stopped outside the compartment where his friends were, watching them all laughing and jaunting among each other from behind the Cloak. He wanted to bottle the moment forever all of a sudden, the feeling of time running out dredging on to the image of his friends brilliant smiles and red, happy faces. He pressed his forehead to the glass, feeling extremely tired and unable to do anything except stand there and watch from the outside._ _

__Only time will tell._ _

__Harry sighed deeply._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time ! I can confidently assure you that i have not and will not be abandoning this fic as I'm under orders to finish it. i can't say the same about late chapters, though. that's part one done too, so naturally fifth year is next up. 
> 
> what have i gotten myself in to.


	24. Loyalty Until Death

# PART TWO - FIFTH YEAR

He spotted the flash of white hair easily through the crowd of the platform. Levitating his school trunk behind him, he made his way through the rumble of people until they were stood in front of each other.

"Draco, darling." His mother's hand briefly clasped his shoulder in greeting then fell away quickly. He gave her a polite nod and smiled like he always did when he got off the train after the school year, only this time it felt tight and forced.

They walked in silence to the Apparition point, bustling children and their families loud in greeting with each other passing them by. For the first time in his life, it became difficult to ignore all of them as he walked stiffly next to his mother. He flitted his eyes as much as he dared, even spotting a mass of ginger he knew belonged to the Weasley's.

He wondered where Harry's muggle relatives were. Draco almost hexed himself right there for not bothering to ask after his arrangements.

"You've grown taller." His mother remarked beside him with a polite yet curt tone. He felt himself stiffen even more, and that just made his heart race even faster.

"Yes." He said, just barely not managing to sound like an utter prat. _Yes? Really, Draco?_ He clenched his hands tighter to his sides, his back feeling like it was stuck with a bloody iron pole. They continued in silence again, and Draco had never felt more uncomfortable in his life. Was the whole summer going to be like this?

They reached the secluded point, then he automatically took his mothers offered arm to apparate. With a tight pop in his gut, they were immediately in front of his home, Malfoy Manor. It stood as tall as always, black marble ingesting the sun setting behind it. It was a dreadfully dreary place, he knew that. If he didn't know any better it could have just screamed _I'm a Death Eater!_ to the bloody Ministry.

They stood in the manor's shadow for a while in silence, both just looking at the entrance. Draco started to the steps before he felt a tight tug on his arm.

"Draco." His mother said, sounding slightly urgent. He looked back at her. Her face was still the same as when he'd left nine months ago, lightly lined with age, but Draco still thought she was beautiful. Her blond hair was much darker than his or his father's, but her skin was still as pale as his, and unmarked just the same. With a sharp feeling in his chest, he noticed the slightly more tired gaze in her eyes, and the few grey hairs on her head that had been neatly tucked away before apparition. "Your father is waiting to speak with you inside." 

If Draco didn't know better, he'd think his mother's tone was less instructive and more warning. He would have thought it was just his imagination if he couldn't see the intense worry in her eyes that no one but him might have been able to pick up.

"Yes, mother." He said with a curt nod. Her gaze on him didn't falter, and neither did her grip on his arm. He made no move to leave it, and they stood there for a moment in silence, as if waiting for the other to say something. 

After a moment, a flicker of something flashed in his mother's eyes. He might have thought it was something like recognition if it wasn't masked so quickly. Fear begun to coil in his stomach at the thought of what she might be seeing on his face. His parents, for obvious reasons, had not been informed of fake-Moody's attack on him or his involvement at all in the events of the Triwizard Finals. His sudden absence that night and the following morning were explained as a sudden stomach bug, landing him in the hospital wing. When so was told to Pansy and Blaise, however, neither looked very convinced.

He started to sweat beneath his sickly coloured dark robes, wondering if maybe fake-Moody left a mark on him somewhere that didn't get healed. Was there a scar on him he didn't catch before leaving Hogwarts? He knew his mother's aversion to marks and scars on his body for some strange reason. It never really seemed odd to him until he started Hogwarts. If she saw something now, she'd surely know something was wrong. He started to pull his arm away, but her hold didn't relent.

"Mother-" He said, trying to take his arm away but not wanting to use so much force as to hurt her.

"You've changed, Draco." She said, never breaking eye-contact. He stilled again, trying to quell his breathing which had become heavy leading up to that point.

"I have to grow at some point." He said curtly, hoping she might just brush off any train of thought of what she saw away. "It's been a while since you've seen me."

Warmth flashed in her eyes, and her grip finally loosened. He dropped his arm to his side quickly, resisting the urge to rub the sore area where her fingers dug in. She smiled at him, but it didn't match the upper part of her face where her eyes still looked hesitant, like a caged animal eyeing an open door.

"Right." She said gently. "We can discuss your school year over tea this evening. The parlor at seven?"

He nodded without thinking about it, and she smiled politely again. His movements feeling sluggish, he gestured for her to walk first in to the house. His mind buzzed when the idea of walking in to his father's office caught up with him.

_Your father is waiting to speak with you._

He repressed a shudder. His father, whom had been at the graveyard that night. Who had watched Voldemort's resurrection, and answered the call for his followers. All at once, the fact that his father was a Death Eater hit him like a bludger to the head. He was a _Death Eater_. The words never meant more than right then. _Death Eater, Death Eater, Death Eater_.

They stepped in to the entrance hall, where they were met with one of the house elves that took Draco's school trunk to his room and his mother's outer robes to hang up. Softly, she turned to him and placed a hand on his cheek before leaving to east wing of the house where she usually spent her days. He watched her go, dread filling up his entire body and his mind not really functioning coherently. 

Relying on muscle memory, he made his way to his father's study in the west wing of the house. It was as if his father held a string to his chest that pulled him to his office even if he didn't want to go. He stood in front of the door for a few moments, steadying his breathing. With a shaky fist, he knocked on the door three times.

"Enter." His father's voice sounded from behind. He exhaled quickly, then opened the door before he could scare himself out of it. 

"Hello, father." Draco said, voice barely shaking. He bowed as he always did in greeting, and hoped to Merlin his father couldn't see the ways his legs shook. 

"Draco." His father said, tone indiscernible. He was sat behind his desk, and held out a hand to gesture permission for Draco to leave the bow and sit in the seat on the other side of his desk. It was somewhere Draco had sat his entire life, every time his father had something to lecture him about or teach. Looking back, he bitterly remembered all of their talks being some sort of anti-muggle indoctrination or some utterly boring lesson in politics and finance. 

He lowered himself in to his chair as gently as he could, his heart feeling entirely out of place in the room as it hammered violently in his chest. The atmosphere was like glass, tense and very carefully controlled between breaking on the crux of a narrow point. The seat was cold under him, and it felt smaller than before. Maybe he really had grown over the year. 

His father bore a stare in to him that he'd become accustomed to over the years. He did what was safest, which was neither instigate nor avoid eye contact. It took everything in him to keep his face blank and his breathing even, and he hoped he didn’t look like he was sweating as much as he felt like he was. 

"How are you, boy." His father finally said, his overly adorned fingers drumming on the arm of his own chair.

Draco swallowed quickly, "Very well, father. Thank you." The room felt overwhelmingly cold, and it just made the sweat on his body cause him to want to convulse in to shivers. He couldn't help but briefly flit his eyes at his father's left arm. The words started to chant themselves in his head. 

_Death Eater. Death Eater. Death Eater._

He needed to calm down. It was just his father. He couldn't know anything. Nobody knew about him and Harry. He was _fine._

"And how was…that school of yours this year." His father waved an uncaring hand as if the thought caused him the most disdain.

"It was fine." Draco said, then when his father said nothing he cleared his throat and said quickly, "Except for that Triwizard Tournament, father. It really was dreadful."

His father's eyebrows raised, "Do you think so?" And Draco cursed himself. He probably thought Draco thought the Final was the part he didn’t like. His father must have seen the Tournament as a good thing, right?

"It's Potter." Draco blurted without thinking, almost falling back in to familiar territory. 

"Potter?"

"Yes." Draco swallowed again, his mouth dry, "Causing all that flashy ruckus just to illegally enter the tournament while underage. Not to mention managing to survive despite his complete idiocy." He hoped his sneer was convincing enough for his father, whom wasn't unfamiliar to Draco's complaints about Harry over the years.

His father leaned back in his chair, face thoughtful. "Yes, that was a shame." Draco suppressed a shudder at his father's malevolent expression. "But that boy's luck will run out soon enough."

"Let's hope so." Draco said, trying to sound as hateful as he could. He squeezed his hands together in his lap. He was fine. He had sworn an Unbreakable Vow. He couldn't say anything even if he wanted to.

"I trust you know what occurred that night when the Diggory boy perished?" His father inquired casually, and Draco's heart almost stopped.

He was stumped, stupidly staying silent for a moment. He couldn't be sure what exactly his father was talking about. Was he genuinely interested in what Draco knew or was he testing him for information? Years of political lessons kicked in, and he decided to take the most diplomatic route by diverting the question.

"Albus Dumbledore says that the Dark Lord has returned." He tried to make his tone hopeful, nonchalant. "And it was him who killed Diggory."

"For once, Dumbledore is correct." His father confirmed, and Draco released a secret relieved breath. "The Dark Lord has returned to us."

Draco quite honestly didn't know what the appropriate response to such a blunt statement was. He decided to settle for a slight smirk and smug tone as he said, "That's very good to hear."

"Indeed." His father smiled at him, and it was one of the most genuine smiles he'd ever seen from the man. Too bad it was for Voldemort than anything else. "Unfortunately, he was weakened after his duel with that idiot boy."

_Did Harry really do that much damage?_

"Weakened, father?"

"Nothing extreme." His father reassured him. "He is currently recuperating in one of our safe houses until he can regain his full strength." He stared at Draco intensely, "And in the mean time, you are aware of our allegiance to the Lord?"

"Nothing short of utmost loyalty." Draco said with ease, the words having been echoed to him for years. 

"That's right." His father stood and walked to the window of his office with his hands clasped behind his back. Draco took the opportunity of his father's back turned to him to wipe his forehead of the sheen of sweat that had collected there. "And you know our blood must serve?"

Revulsion coiled in Draco's stomach. "Yes, father."

His father turned around quickly, piercing blue gaze on him in an instant. "Yes, _sir_. From now on you will address me as so, understand?"

"Yes, sir." Draco gulped, body completely still and knuckles white from how much his hands squeezed together. _Death Eater. Death Eater. Death Eater._

"Utmost loyalty." His father repeated, eyes boring into Draco.

"Yes, sir."

"Not just loyalty, Draco." His father said, "Loyalty until death."

His blood ran cold throughout his entire body. He felt a lump in his throat that might reveal everything to his father just through his tone. His instincts fought to keep his face a blank mask of indifference. If his father saw nothing unusual, he wouldn't ask. Absence of emotion was easier than faking any he didn't feel.

"Yes, sir." He said. "Until death."

It seemed no matter what he did, he might die.

-o-o-

Two knocks. "Mother?"

"Come in."

He stepped in to the warmly lit parlor where his mother often sat for tea. There was already a tray laid out with his favourite pastries, and he melted at the sight as the tension in his body left behind a dull throb of hunger. 

He slumped down in the couch across from his mother, disregarding on proper tea manners in favour of pouring himself and his mother a cup and adding the usual amount of sugar they both took. In silence, they both began to sip and watch the fireplace crackling.

He glanced at his mother, the fire sending shadows across her face, but also a warm yellow light that made her look younger. 

"Do you know?" He asked out of no where. He had no idea why he did, but suddenly felt the need to know.

His mother looked at him, and despite the obscure question, understood what he meant. "I do." She said, taking another sip of her tea. 

"Oh." He said. They lapsed in to silence again, but this time there was something there he couldn't quite put in to words. 

"Diggory." His mother said, "A good family." She looked at Draco sadly, "Their boy was the last heir."

He felt a pang of sadness that he locked up inside so it didn't show up on his face. He said nothing, and continued staring at the fire.

"It's always painful to see children thrown in to things for the sake of a cause." His mother said grimly, and he whipped his head to her. She was pointedly not looking at him, sipping her tea. He stared at her in hopes of understanding what she might be implying, but he couldn't possibly tell. He decided to not say anything in return.

They spent the remaining duration of their tea in silence, and when he'd finished his cup, he excused himself to go to bed. Before he left, he stopped at the door and said off-handedly, "I apologise if you don't see me so much tomorrow. Father has said he wanted to see me in the mornings and afternoons."

"I'm aware." His mother said. "You will still have time for tea at seven, however."

He quirked his head. It seemed his mother wanted to have tea with him again. Usually she just left him alone over the holidays.

"Yes, mother. Goodnight." he said anyway, and left with a quick bow. 

-o-o-

"Again! Does that blasted school not teach you anything?"

_Not how to duel like a bloody maniac, you pillock._

Draco picked himself up off the floor, panting heavily and sweat rolling down his face. 

"As I have said," His father boomed, "Within a duel, your eyes never leave the same place. What's your spot?"

Draco's eyes flicked to his father's disgusting aubergine-coloured robes. "Your torso."

"Then keep you eyes there, you blithering idiot." His father snarled.

Draco regained his dueling stance, with legs apart and knees locked. His wand arm was raised at chest level, and the other was held up as well behind and close to his body to give him the most efficient amount of mobility. "Yes, sir."

He watched his father get in to the stance as well, then moved his eyes to the same spot on the other man's robes. In the corner of his vision, he saw quick, sharp arc of his father casting a spell, and immediately braced himself. 

Having been mildly educated on how to duel just last summer, he remembered to not react immediately when a spell was cast, but to watch and listen first in the spare millisecond the spell was leaving the wand. Of course , that was a risky technique for obvious reasons, but it was highly effective when done properly in that you could block or dodge the spell appropriately, since some like the killing curse couldn't be blocked.

A spit of red light left his father's wand in his peripheral vision, and he immediately knew it was a non-verbal stunning spell. 

" _Protego!_ " A blue shield erupted around him, and the stunning spell bounced off harmlessly. His eyes were still trained on his father's torso, and as soon as his Protego was released he saw another spell coming his way. 

Not having time to cast another, he jumped and rolled to the side. He came up on to his knees in time to block another purple hex that smelled like burnt toast. His eyes lost the spot on his father's robes so he cast quick hex that was meant to cause boils to spread over his father's skin. It was blocked easily, but he took the quick moment to find another spot to focus on.

The idea of using a 'spot' in dueling was another outdated, traditional technique. It was done by having your eyes fixed on the middle of the target, and allowing your focus to blur just slightly so you could take in information from you periphery as well as your normal line of sight. 

Draco thought it was dumb, but of course his opinion didn't matter.

They parried spells a little more, and Draco managed to keep himself on his feet most of the time, having been knocked over several times before for the last hour. His body was already aching and he knew he'd bruise badly tomorrow, but he couldn't concede in any way yet. It would've been useless if he did anyway.

An _Incarcerous_ hits him quicker than he can react, and he only has time to angle his body away before he lands on his back with a dull thud. 

It's silent in the room except for his heavy breathing. He can't see where his father is, only able to stare at the elaborately painted ceiling of the ballroom where they were now using for Draco's 'lessons'.

Finally, his father stepped in to view, looking down at Draco with something like disgust in his eyes.

"You're weak." His father said bluntly. Draco wanted to say nothing, too busy trying to figure out why his father was looking at him like that. Surely he couldn't be _that_ bad.

"Yes, sir." He answered anyway, because he had to. It still burned in his gut every time he did. He didn't know if it was because it was such an alienating term for his own father, or the forced demand for respect placed on him that just made him feel like he was telling blatant lies the whole day.

"I'll change that." His father ran his own fingers across his wand. 

More nausea. "Yes, sir."

His father pointed his wand at Draco, and the ropes around his body loosened and disappeared. 

"Again." His father said, already walking away. Draco got up, rubbing his sore back and bruised arms with a sigh. His muscles felt tight and weak, and if he spent too long in one specific position they'd start to shake.

"Yes, sir."

-o-o-

As much as he'd have liked to shower and collapse in to bed, his father dutifully let him go just before seven in the evening, and so he went for tea with his mother. They'd dueled for hours, Draco having gone in to that ballroom at nine that morning and never leaving except for a quick lunch. Even when he was tired, told his father he was too exhausted to even cast properly, he was just answered with another spell in his face. Damn idiot. 

Two knocks. "Mother?"

"Come in."

He pushed in the parlor room with a little more force than necessary, and slumped in the lounge chair across his mother without caring if he'd get reprimanded for it. Luckily she said nothing from where she was sat across him.

The tea tray sat between them again, and his mother made no move to start. With a sigh, he winced and pushed himself up. He poured his mother a cup, adding one spoon of sugar, then poured himself some with three spoons. She took it and sipped it contently, and he leaned back again in the chair with the warm cup on his hands.

They lapsed in to silence, just like the day before, and as weird as it may have looked, Draco relaxed slightly in to it. The hushed quiet, his aching body and the warmly lit room from the fire across them made him want to melt in to the chair. 

"I saw your end of year's." His mother said, still staring in to the fire.

"Oh." Draco said. He really had forgotten about his end of year exams after the way the year ended. They'd gone well enough for him, but all he could remember was worrying about Harry the whole time.

"One of the highest in your grade?" His mother remarked questioningly. 

"Yes." He swallowed and looked down at his lap. "Second highest." He muttered.

"The first?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Granger." 

His mother said nothing after that, but he still felt the shame creeping over him. His father would have a fit if he knew Granger beat him out of the whole year. He took the last sip of his tea and set it down on the tray.

With a long sigh, he leaned his head back on the back of the lounge chair so his head was facing the ceiling. He closed his eyes, letting the crackle of the fire fill his head instead of the repetitive phantom echo of spells flying by his head and his own laboured breathing between casts. He needed to learn some more spells. And how to cast non-verbally. His stamina could have been a bit better too, having not been able to play Quidditch that year. His father was bloody quick despite being…however old he was. Draco never bothered to know.

He had another lesson the next day too. He really hoped it wasn't dueling again. His father did say something about theory, if he remembered correctly. He hadn't really been in the headspace to listen properly at the time, having been suspended upside down from a spell he'd never heard before. 

"Did he make you bleed?" He heard his mother say. He opened his eyes to look at her, and she was staring at him critically.

"No." He said, sitting up and feeling self-conscious. As bad as the spells his father sent his way were, none of them were especially malicious or lastingly harmful. They just beat him up enough to put a few bruises on his body, on convenient places like his _arse_ , which he needs so he can _sit_.

His mother nodded acceptingly, and he took that as a que to allowed to leave.

"Goodnight, mother." He bowed like always, feeling a sharp twinge in his lower back that made him grimace.

"See you tomorrow." She said without looking back. He quirked his head. Merlin, she wanted to see him for tea _again_. He wasn't used to this much attention, despite getting horrendously doted on when he was a child. Back then it was fun. Now it was just unnerving.

Before he knew it, he'd peeled the sweaty clothes off his skin and showered once he'd gotten back to his room. Wincing the whole way, he changed in to his night clothes and limped in to bed. His body buzzed with fatigue, and he knew he'd be in much more pain tomorrow.

But until then, he could sleep and hopefully forget about it all. Even for a little while. He had a few fleeting thoughts of Harry of all things as he lay staring at his ceiling, and he wondered where the boy was. Nobody knew his muggle relative's address, so he couldn't even send him an owl if he wanted to. He felt a twinge of sadness at the fact that Harry may be surrounded by people who didn't understand what he'd been through that year. What's worse was, Harry gave the impression that his relatives didn't even like him. If that was the case, then either nobody really knew about it or he was being forced to return to that house every summer regardless of his situation. 

Draco was too tired to get angry just then, but he closed his eyes and fell asleep with the last fleeting thing on his mind a very pleasant daydream about hexing Albus Dumbledore.

_Old, senile bastard._


	25. It's just the soil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha hey :)

He kept dreaming about Cedric.

Not every night, but the good majority. He thought that Voldemort would be the one to haunt his dreams as he slept, but instead it was Cedric's lifeless body. On the nights he managed to sleep, he would see him, clear as day as he lay on the ground of the graveyard. It was always the same moment. The split second when Harry's eyes had flicked to Cedric's body before the pallid green light of the killing curse had even left. It crawled over Cedric's skin, reflecting in his eyes. Harry had felt his own skin tingle from the malevolence of the magic that he was horrified to feel felt _familiar_. It was always that moment, when Cedric's face went slack and his eyes looked so terribly non-living that Harry questioned if he'd ever been alive at all.

When he was awake, it wasn't much better. What bothered him the most was he didn't get a clock. He had to sit and stare at the cracked little watch on his bedside table the whole day and hope it wouldn't stop working. He barely left his room, and his body was conditioned by now to only have to use the bathroom a few times a day.

At least none of them spoke to him. None of them except Dudley. He would sometimes stop on his way down the hall and taunt Harry through the door, but that was it. On odd days, though, he's spend it out in the house doing work or in the garden wandering aimlessly. Sometimes he just forgot he _could_ leave his room, and ended up staying in there the whole day.

He felt foolish, however. The other main reason he stayed in his room was in the dumb hope that a letter might come for him at any moment. From anyone. It'd been one week since the summer holidays started, and he had yet to hear from his friends. He missed them terribly, and it only added to the ache of everything else he had to think about. 

He looked at his watch now, angled slightly to the side on his bedside table so he would be able to see properly through the cracked glass without the numbers being refracted. It was only mid-day. He lolled his head back to face the ceiling again, mildly wishing he never bothered to check the time in the first place. His limbs felt heavy, but his blood thrummed beneath them just like it did before a Quidditch match. There was a rushing in his ears that made him feel like he was swaying on his bed. He begun to think that if there was a way rotten food, sitting left and unwanted and festering in mould, it would be like this. 

He closed his eyes.

" _Kill the spare._ " Rang out in his head.

He opened them again, and kept them like that until he forgot about the time. 

-o-o-

Slowly, he became paranoid. Where was it all? Did he dream it all up? 

None dead. No destruction. No news. He got _nothing_. Not even a bloody letter. If he didn't have his wand with him, he might have thought he was a muggle with a weird wizard fantasy for nine months of the year. 

He sent both Ron and Hermione and letter the day before, and only got curt, infuriatingly polite responses. He didn’t want to be asked about how his summer was going, he wanted to know _what the fuck was going on_. 

It didn't occur to him until two weeks in to the holidays that he and Draco, were in fact, still actually friends. A lot of things didn't occur to him these days, so it wasn't that surprising. Some nights after a nightmare, as he lay awake in the darkness, he might sometimes manage to convince himself that some things were true while some weren't. He might even switch facts around, like on one night when he'd woken up believing Ron was still mad at him for the tournament, but Cedric was still alive and well. It wasn't as if he had anyone or anything to talk some sense in to him, except for when he pulled back his shirt sleeve to see the jagged silver scar on his arm, and realised the latter wasn't true. 

But it came suddenly, the realisation that Draco was still there. It was like he'd been obliviated of the boy's existence for the last fortnight, but all of a sudden the fact gave him the littlest energy to get out of his room for a bit. It was just the smallest ray of light to know he had someone else.

So now there he was, hiding in the terribly kept flower beds underneath his relative's open window and listening to the news on their telly as it sifted through. Harry found it was a remarkable step-up from locking himself in his room, except now he was knee deep in dirt that he knew his Aunt Petunia would probably give him a bollocking for later. 

" _…missing infant from a housefire has been found and returned to custody-_ "

Harry sighed frustratedly. Still nothing on the news. Was Voldemort really back? Wouldn't he be spilling as much muggle blood as he could by now?

He dug his hands in to the dirt and squeezed. It felt familiar in a way he didn't know how. He used it to ground himself and the bubbling of anxiety inside him. The sky was a terrible overcast, and he ached for it to be sunny again. 

_It's too bloody hot here, Harry. Stand over there a bit so you're shadow covers me, will you?_

He remembered the words suddenly, from a particularly stifling Sunday afternoon at Hogwarts when he walked up to their spot by the lake and found Draco already curled up on his side, facing away from him. The sun was blazing mercilessly, and Harry stood there for a moment staring at the other boy before he reluctantly moved so his shadow blocked the rays off of him.

_How did you know it was me?_ Harry had asked, stuffing his hands in to his jeans pockets. 

_It's always you, isn't it? Nobody knows about this place. Now stay there._ Draco said again without looking back. Harry didn't reply, and ended up standing there and looking out to the lake until a grey cloud obscured the sun from it’s direct glare. He looked back, having been deep in thought, and found the other boy curled up in the same spot, sleeping. Still barely thinking about anything at all, he watched Draco until the cloud over them passed through, and the sun began to shine down on them again. Harry's shadow no longer cast over Draco, so he was suddenly bathed in an ethereal light that had Harry looking away quickly, as if being caught looking at something he shouldn't have.

A bird overhead screeched, and the trees lining Privet Drive began to rustle. Wind brushed through Harry, and he lifted up a hand to his cheek because the skin felt colder than normal. It came away wet, and he looked at his fingers to see were damp on the tips and caked in dirt under his fingernails.

He wiped his cheeks some more. _Just wiping away the soil,_ Harry told himself, hands coming away more and more damp as his vision blurred before him. _It's just the soil,_ He thought, more tears rolling down his face. 

God, he missed it.

-o-o-

That night, he hurriedly entered his room after sneaking in to the house and threw his trunk open. He rustled through it, sifting through textbooks and scrap pieces of used parchment, even the still very much alive Hungarian Horntail, until he found a blank parchment and quill. 

He set it on the floor, not bothering to get to the table and poised his inked quill over the parchment. It hovered there as he hesitated, the black ink collecting on the nub. 

He hadn’t really thought this through. What on earth would he say? Would it even work? A blot of ink dropped on to the page as he thought. It bled in to the parchment, and he decided sending Draco a letter really couldn't hurt him. 

It might hurt Draco, though, and that was the problem. He wondered how he was with his father. Harry shuddered at the uncomfortable chill over his spine as he remembered seeing Lucius Malfoy standing proudly at the graveyard that night. He wouldn't know how he could even be in a room with such a person, let alone them being your father as well.

Deciding he couldn't wait until the new school year to speak to Draco, he begun to write.

_This you?_

_-Lolligo_

It wasn't much at all, and it was terribly obscure, but he didn't want to include anything that might allude it was him or that it was meant for Draco lest Lucius somehow got his hands on it. He decided to use that bloody squid's pet name because it was something they both understood (be it that thing really existed). It wasn't ideal, but it was something.

He messily folded up the letter and took it to Hedwig, whom was pleased to finally be let out of her cage. She grasped the letter and looked at him expectantly by the open window.

"Er…Take this to Draco Malfoy at his Manor?"

Hedwig seemed to narrow her eyes at his indecision, but luckily took off and swooped through the street and up in to the sky. He watched her go, the sun setting down in purple hues across the sky and hoping to Merlin he didn't just get Draco in trouble.


	26. Until Tomorrow

Draco fell in to a heap on the floor, the air knocked out of his lungs as he was released from that one same spell his father seemed to keep hitting him with. He let himself catch his breath for a few seconds on the floor, before pulling himself to his knees, still panting heavily.

"Sir." He starts in question in between breaths. His father's back was turned, flexing his wand wrist and staring outside a window as he waited to start the next bout of dueling.

"Hm." He answered.

"What's that spell you keep using?" Draco pushed himself up to stand, wincing as he felt his knee crack with a twinge of pain on his way. "The one you just used."

His father turned to him, "It was a _Levicorpus_." 

"I've never heard of it before." Draco said thoughtfully. He hoped he wasn't asking too many questions, but one thing his father encouraged in all of this (what _was_ all of this?) was asking questions. 

"That's because it was banned at that bloody school." His father sneered. Draco just barely flinched, feeling like he made a mistake in asking at all. His father sighed, placing his hands behind his back and turning his back again to a nearby window. "It was a popular spell, at some point." He turned his head to Draco with a slight smirk, "Your Godfather was always good at putting things together."

"Professor Snape, Sir?"

"None else. Half of what he knew at your age still overtakes everything you know now. He formed that spell - or so he says."

"Professor Snape created a spell, sir?" Draco asked, confused. He'd never really thought about _making_ spells before.

His father nodded, "I'm not sure of the schematics, but Severus is handy with that sort of thing. I use many of his spells both because they are generally lesser known and often times-" He smiled cruelly, "-very dark magic."

Draco let that sink in slowly. He was no stranger to dark magic, for obvious reasons. He didn't necessarily think it was _bad_ , per se. Of course it was _bad_ , but if it was used the right way it couldn't be so bad, right? It might even be helpful one day, if he got that far.

_Now you and Harry's paths have merged, and so has the path to Voldemort as well._

Draco shuddered slightly, adjusting his sweaty grip on his hand at his side. He steeled himself against the chill running down his back, and stepped back to lock his knees in preparation.

"Can you teach me some?" He asked his father. The man turned back in slight surprise. He looked over Draco curiously, then drew his wand with a sly smile.

"In due time, Draco. Now, again!" And he casted in an arc Draco had come to readily anticipate as the days had passed. He blocked it immediately with a non-verbal spell, doing so again when another spell came barreling his way. Over the last two weeks, his father had only gotten tougher on him as he himself had gotten faster at reacting. It was like his father knew just how to stretch Draco thin but never enough to make him break.

His father quickly cast the _Levicorpus_ spell, and just after coming back from a physical dodge he didn't have time to counter it. He lost the grip on his wand and it slipped from his grasp. Reflexively, just as if trying to catch the snitch, he other hand shot out to catch it just in time to shout, " _Liberacorpus!_ " at the spell he'd been memorising the movement to for days now.

The spell bounced, and he waited with his wand raised for the next attack, but it never came. He looked quickly to his father's face, whom was staring at him with a cold gaze and his wand still poised to strike. They stared at each other in silence, Draco's heart hammering in anticipation of his father's next move.

But instead, his father spoke, "Just now. What was that?"

Draco's mouth opened in surprise, "I'm…sorry - Sir?" His wand hand fell just a little, and his father's eyes darted to it and back to him in surprise. 

"What hand do you write with?" His father asked in an urgent tone, walking closer to Draco.

"Er…My right." He stammered, then adding hurriedly as his father yanked the arm holding his wand - the left - and studied it, "But sometimes I use my left - if I get tired."

"You're ambidextrous?" 

"Er…Yes, sir." Draco was confused; He thought his father knew all of this already. He barely managed to not roll his eyes.

After a couple of seconds of prodding Draco's arm and his wand, his father murmured, "Cast something."

" _Lumos_." Draco said on instinct. The tip of his wand begun to glow a cold white colour. It lit up underneath his father's face, sending unflattering shadows across it. 

"Interesting." His father mumbled, looking at him. He let go of Draco's arm and went back to the window pensively. 

"Sir?" Draco asked curiously. 

"That spell you just used as well," His father tapped his fingers on his lips as he thought, "You didn't learn that?'

Oh. He was talking about the counter for the _Levicorpus_ Draco had cast. "No, sir. I…" He trailed off as it dawned on him. "It's just the first thing I thought of."

"Right. Well done." And Draco's mouth almost fell open from the sudden praise he never got from the man.

His father gestured to the two chairs facing each other where they often sat at as his father taught him some boring theory or the other. "Come sit."

He complied, his aching muscles uncoiling in relief. He blew out a long sigh, and massaged the knee that had been bothering him earlier. His father came to sit across him, wand still in hand. 

"What you have is rare, being able to cast with both hands." His father started in the neutral tone he used while teaching, and Draco sat back in surprise at the sudden shift. "There are many ambidextrous wizards, but not as much magically so." His father held out his wand arm - his right - and ran his other hand along it from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers, "Magic flows through our arms from our core, hence why we have a wand arm. It conducts through the bone, and through the conduit of our wands." He flicked his wand once, sending a few sparks in to the air. "Usually, it only flows through one arm. A more concentrated pathway - either your right or left." He gestured to Draco, "In your case, however, you have two pathways. Your core can flow through to the left, or the right."

Draco looked down at his hands, his right gripping his wand and the left open to reveal cracked lines and calluses from dueling in his palm. "So you can't cast with your left?" he asked, looking up.

"I can, but it would be much weaker. Practically useless."

"Oh." Draco said. He looked back down at his hands, expecting to feel different at the revelation but feeling nothing but the same thrum of energy in the hand that held his wand.

"Now get up." His father said, getting up to stand as well. Draco did so, and his father came to stand closer in front of him. "Lift your wand with your right." 

Draco obeyed, and barely jumped out of skin as his father grabbed the arm that was suspended in front of him and positioned it forward.

"Now," His father said, "Imagine we are dueling." He stepped to the left of Draco farther away from his wand arm. "I am about to cast. React."

Draco immediately turned his body to block the minor jinx his father sent his away. It bounced off just in time, and his father nodded approvingly. 

"Good. See how you were almost hit by that spell - almost a second too late. You spent too much time turning your body to the spell when you could have been blocking it. Turn back to how you were." His father commanded. Draco went back to the position he was in before, his father still to his far left. 

"Now this time what I want you to do is, when I cast, transfer your wand to your other hand before you block." He arced his wand again, and this time Draco followed the instruction and whipped his wand in to his other hand before casting the counter-jinx. This time, it stopped well before it reached Draco. He was breathing slightly heavier, and his body was in the same position before, but his left arm was held out in his father's direction.

His father smirked, satisfied. He came to stand next to Draco and gestured for both hands to be held out. "See how when I was over there, you would have had to turn your entire body to face me if you used your right hand. Every second counts in a duel, and much of it would be wasted moving around to accommodate things like this." He gestured to Draco's left arm, still holding his wand out. He felt stupid with both arms out like that, but was too focused on what his father was saying to care. "Theoretically, it would take less amount of time to transfer your wand between hands than to turn your body's direction. With your Seeker's reflexes, I expect that would be the case." He gestured permission for Draco to drop his arms, which had steadily been beginning to ache. 

"Now as for that spell," His father sat back down, "What made you say that specific one?"

Draco hesitated, coming to stand at his chair and sitting in it when his father waved a hand in permission to do so. "Well…" He wracked his brain in trying to remember what he did before he said it. He mostly blanked out whenever he was in a duel. "You've been hitting me with that spell for days now, so I knew it's motion before you even cast it. And I know some Latin, so I knew it translated to something like ' _lift body_ ', right?" His father nodded, expression blank, and Draco cleared his throat and continued, "After that, I just…incantated the opposite meaning. I chose _Liberare_ out of a whim. It was either that, or _Labor_ , but I managed to strike true from luck."

"It was a well-informed guess." His father said, and Draco felt his face start to burn, "From now on we will add your ambidextrous wand mobility to use in duels. You will also start re-learning Latin basics. You may have access to the Library in full. I will expect you to do that in your own time."

_You take up all the free time I have,_ Draco thought bitterly.

"Yes, sir." He said anyway.

"You are dismissed for the day." His father said, and Draco held his sigh of relief in until he left the room with the door closed behind him. 

-o-o-

After another awkward tea with his mother, Draco collapsed in to his room and it took all his willpower to drag himself for a bath before bed. 

He stepped out of the steaming bathroom with a towel around his waist just In time to hear an incessant tapping at his window. He looked and saw it was a familiar white owl with a letter in its talons, impatiently waiting on the ledge on the other side of the glass. His heart jumped, and he all but ran to the window and flung it open. 

"Hedwig?" He asked the owl excitedly, and it only hooted in response. He stepped back to let her fly in, and watched as she flew in an arc around his room to settle on the back of a chair. 

"Hey girl." He said, coming closer and reaching a hand out to stroke her. She allowed it for a second before nipping his fingers irritably. "Right." He grumbled after an embarrassing yelp, "Treat." 

He went to his drawer and dug out a few owl treats before giving them to her and finally managing to extract the letter from her grasp. Draco blamed the fatigue completely for the way his fingers shook as he opened the letter. 

_This you?_

_-Lolligo_

He couldn't help the small smile when he saw the name. "Idiot." He muttered under his breath. Hedwig took the opportunity to nip at his fingers again, and he drew away hissing. "Fine, you wench." He quickly gave her another treat and went to collect a quill and parchment. 

His quill hovered over the page, and he tapped his finger on it impatiently. What could he say? It seemed Harry assumed he needed the obscurity for Draco's sake, but it wasn't really necessary since he had his own window where he got his post. Draco momentarily shuddered at the thought of his father opening up this indecipherable monstrosity. 

Luckily, however, his father got his post from a separate part of the house, and Draco could always keep using Hedwig. He had to anyway, since he still didn't know Harry's muggle address. How did he get Draco's, anyway? Knowing Harry, he probably said something stupid like say 'Draco Malfoy's house' to his own owl. The poor soul was simple like that.

At that thought, he poised his quill again to write. He wanted to know how Harry was. What he was doing with those muggle relatives of his. Did he feel lonely? Did his friends write to him?

Draco wondered if Harry had dreams about that night like he himself often had. They didn't happen much, and for once Draco was glad for the rigorous activity he did during the day that made him too tired to even dream at night.

But when he did have them, it was Moody's wand pointed at him and the sound of someone screaming that he couldn't place to a face he knew. He shut his eyes quickly and took a deep shuddering breath.

When he opened them again, he exhaled steadily, and begun to write. A stable resolve resided itself in his mind, and his train of thought wondered down one path as he wrote down another on the parchment. The path led to a name. A root imbedded deep in the fallow soil he was stuck in. 

It was Professor Snape. The vein between the dark and the light. He needed to get ahold of him somehow.

_I'll see you soon._ He wrote at the end of the letter, and sent it away with another stroke of Hedwig's snowy coat. She disappeared in to the darkness, and he noticed the moon was full that night. It reminded him of that first night of the Yule Ball when everything had changed. It wasn't full back then, but it seemed just as bright.

He closed the window, and climbed in to bed feeling both lifted and added of a weight on his chest that followed him in to sleep.

_Until tomorrow,_ he reminded himself like every night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quite a bit of technical magic stuff in this chapter. sorry if that's boring for you lmao
> 
> thank you for reading :)


	27. Wandless and the Trace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretend the text with these ' ' things (apostrophes?) are italicised. ao3 hates me. 
> 
> happy new year! this may be my last chapter of 2020. what dumpster fire of a year. 
> 
> thanks for reading, as always.

Harry woke up to Hedwig tapping on his window, and he immediately jumped out of bed. He quickly scrambled to throw on his glasses on to his face, and barely suppressed a whoop of joy when he saw a letter in her claws.

He let her in as quietly as he could, the sun just barely peeking out in the horizon and not wanting either his aunt or uncle to wake up (although the latter was unlikely. Vernon slept like a bloody rock and so did Dudley).

Hedwig swooped in, dropping the letter on his desk and settling on her perch inside her cage. Harry quickly ruffled through his trunk for some owl treats and stuffed far too many inside next to her. She hooted happily and he left her to gobble it down.

He glanced at the letter with anticipation, then shook himself and went to open it before he could hesitate again. He was pleased to see Draco's neat script when he unfolded the paper, and blew a sigh of relief. Worst case scenario, the Owl got to Draco's father…Harry shuddered again at the thought. 

The letter was considerably longer than what Harry had first sent, and probably even longer than the dry responses he often got from Ron and Hermione. Harry climbed back in to bed and hid under the covers. Luckily the first few breaks of dawn started to show through his window, so he didn't have to squint too hard at the words on the parchment to see them.

 _Oh my, it seems my squid missed me,_ the letter started off with, and Harry smiled at the words he could practically hear coming out of Draco's mouth in that snobbish tone of his.

_I'm surprised you managed to find me - or rather your owl. Beautiful thing, isn't she? I made sure to generously reward her, so don't be shocked if she comes back a little heavier than before._

Harry glanced at Hedwig and the pile of treats she was currently attacking, and shook his head ruefully at her. She seemed to be masterfully profiting off of the two of them, but since she _had_ found Draco, Harry let it go.

_How have you been? You don't have to answer that if you don't want to. I know it must be utter shite regardless of any situation you're in. Just one month and a week -ish left to go, Potter. Hibernate or something. I know I want to. It's been absolutely mad since I got back to the Manor._

_First of all, my mother's been paying particularly special attention to me - (and I know what you're thinking right now, Potter. Don't make that face at the parchment. When I say attention I mean completely unwanted and unwarranted attention. It's unpleasant. She keeps making me have tea with her, Merlin help us all.) - which wouldn't sound weird, but considering the fact that for all of my summer's away from Hogwarts so far, she had left me to my own devices for the most part, it's been very weird indeed._

_And secondly, but definitely not any less significantly, my father. Can you hear me audibly sighing from a distance, Potter? Where do I even bloody start. Don't let the Blasé tone of this letter fool you, however. I have issues conveying serious matters…well, seriously. To put it shortly, though, my father is undeniably intending to become a Death Eater once again. Or he already is. I don't know. I don't think about it too much. He's been what I can only convey as trying to make me in to a Death Eater too. He's been training me every day since I got back._

_Not good things either. But I've got no choice but to do them, so I hope you'll understand._

_Dueling practice is a large part of it, but there's a lot of other stuff too. Magical theory (lots of Dark Arts spells) and other things I can't put a name to. Call them Special Skills, if you will. Teaching me how to compose myself properly, how to lie convincingly (ironic), how to spot lies (easy) and other things I can't be arsed to write down. Maybe one day, If you ask nicely, I might give you a full list of all the things my Death Eater taught me to successfully also Death Eat like him. (See what I did there?)_

_So that's been me, non-stop for the last few weeks. I'm bloody tired and generally sick of seeing my father so much. He demands nothing but complete focus and attention, and since he's always watching I can never let my guard down. I never knew lying could be so physically draining, but I suppose I'll have to get used to that in the future. As long as I tell him what he wants to hear, I think I'll be okay._

_I try not to think about it too much, either. I'm learning much more Dark Arts spells than I should know for my age, and I'm very certain my father expects me to use them one day. He's honing me down like some child soldier, and if wasn't so bloody caught up in his stupid lessons and my mother's stupid evening teas, then maybe I would have time to feel bad about it all. It feels like I'm waiting for the ball to drop for something, but I don't know what. Father says Voldemort was weakened from your duel, and he declined to share any additional information except that he's off somewhere recovering. I wish I knew where, because sometimes I seriously consider being able to just go there and Killing Curse the arsehole myself as he sleeps in his little bed all sick and weak._

_Merlin, I need a break._

_I've thought about being able to leave, but I have no idea how. It just occurred only seconds ago that Snape is apparently an ally of Dumbledore, so I might just have to reach out to him. Now that I think about it, the old man did say something about that…_

_Maybe this way I can see you somehow. Do Granger and Weasley never visit? I apologise, I have no idea what your situation is like at all. It must be terrible not being able to do magic. (Yes, I can do magic here. What did you expect? Purebloods and all that. And the ministry is filthily corrupt and we're filthy rich. Bygones, I suppose.)_

_Oh, this has been a terribly long letter, hasn't it? It's not much either, just me complaining. I do hope I conveyed enough that I hope you're alright. I'll contact Snape today and see what I can do to get out of this house for a bit. Worst case scenario, I have to pester Dumbledore with owls until he breaks down. He may be the most powerful wizard of our age, but he really has nothing on my ability to annoy._

_I'll see you soon, I hope. Eat well and rest._

_D.M_

Harry set down the parchment slowly. The sounds of singing birds outside finally registered in his mind, having been absorbed completely in the letter. 

It was nice. That's all he could think. The letter was really, really nice. It was the most personal thing that had been said to him in a while. Hermione always was a bit robotic in her responses, and Ron was…Ron in his letters. Draco's letter was almost like he was sitting right next to him and having a conversation. Harry could almost hear the words as if spoken aloud by him. 

It felt nice, but it also made him feel very lonely in the aftermath.

He also felt a stab of something sour in his gut from the letter. A complete contrast of the warmth it also brought him. It was when he'd read about Draco's training with his father. Harry felt…jealous? Why would he feel jealous about that? Draco was literally being trained to become a Death Eater, to possibly kill…

No, that wasn't it. He wasn't jealous of Draco's situation exactly, but perhaps rather that Draco was training so hard everyday while Harry sat on his arse and did nothing. 

That was it. Harry felt that slight throb of shame at the feeling of being completely useless. Draco was working himself to the bone, deceiving his father everyday and Harry was…what? He slept a lot. He ate sometimes, as much as his relatives permitted. He tried to pick up a textbook and revise at some point, but who was he kidding? Ron would have laughed his arse off if he saw it. 

It's not like he could do much, but was he be doing as much as possible? He didn't have a lot, just the contents of his room and Hedwig. Harry sat up from under the covers on the edge of the bed. He surveyed the room, the particles of dust floating in the air as a bit of sunlight peaked through the window. His trunk was tucked in the side of the room, but it's contents were strewn about over the course of the few weeks. He eyed his wand, growing it's own layer of dust on his side-table. He knew he couldn't use it, but felt the need to have it there just in case. 

_I wish I could use magic,_ he thought simply. It was a childish sort of urge. Just for the pure thrill, he wanted to use it. He imagined Draco dueling, swishes of his wand through the air in that quick way he'd seen him cast in the past. The bursts of magic leaving before he'd even finished the incantation…

He closed his eyes. Harry _really_ wanted to use magic now. He cursed himself slightly for raising his own hopes. He couldn't use magic. The Ministry would surely expel him a second time around. He couldn't. It wasn't allowed.

But Merlin, he wanted to. 

He just wanted to see his Patronus again. That was it. The blazing stag was something he could never forget, but seeing it each time was also as if seeing for the first time. 

Slumping back on to his bed, he faced the side-table and stared his wand. His arm lay outstretched next to him, hanging off the bed as if beckoning it towards him. He sighed deeply, and his heart rate slowed marginally.

The wand moved. His heart skipped a beat.

His wand had just twitched, he was sure of it. His eyes widened, but he otherwise didn't move. There was no way…

No. He had seen it. By Merlin, his wand moved. It had even rolled a bit from it's place. He could tell because it's top side didn't have a layer of dust on it anymore.

Could it have been accidental magic? No, it would have been more explosive if it was, and he was pretty sure he was passed that age by now where it happened at all. However he had used magic just now felt controlled, and Harry realised he felt the buzz in his fingertips as evidence that it came from him. 

Merlin, it was him who had just probably moved the wand. He had used magic…without his wand. Harry sat up slowly once again, keeping his eyes fixed on the wand. He squinted at it, almost tauntingly as if it would jump up in to a song and dance.

It did not, but was still just as suspicious. 

His right hand curled in to a fist, then released. He definitely felt a tingling feeling in his fingertips, and the inside of his wrist had a slight burning sensation. He looked down, expecting to see his hand glowing or something just as bizarre, but everything looked the same. His hand flexed, but still nothing. 

Eyeing the wand again, he held out his arm to it. He closed his eyes, trying to replicate what he did earlier. What he done exactly? Oh right, he had taken a deep breath back then, so he did it now. He had felt his heart slow by just a beat, and remembered wanting his wand.

He knew this feeling. It was similar to that moment in the first task of the tournament, when he'd summoned his broom. He'd held his wand up to the sky, and screamed," _Accio!_ ", and felt the buzz that it'd worked all throughout his arm. He remembered the adrenalin rush in his veins from seeing the Hungarian Horntail so close, and the way his mind narrowed in to the spell so acutely because he absolutely _needed_ his broom for the task.

 _Accio_ , he thought. His heart was steady, and he curled his fingers slightly. A jolt shot through his fingers, and he immediately felt a slap in his palm of something solid. His fingers closed around it reflexively.

When he opened his eyes, he smiled. His wand was nestled in his palm, the side-table now bare.

The terror set in immediately. 

A spell. Merlin, he had just used _magic_. Was he an _idiot_? The Trace would surely pick that up…The Ministry was going to have a bloody _field day_ with him…

He cursed and scrambled off the bed, holding the wand away from his body like it was incriminating evidence in a murder investigation. "Shit, shit, shit." 

His heart hammered in his chest, and he started flailing around wildly and not bloody knowing what to do. Should he hide? Hide the wand? Run away? No, that was stupid. It would be Third Year all over again. His eyes flew to the window, half expecting a Ministry Owl to be waiting there already with a letter telling him he was expelled. He couldn't be _expelled _! He had to learn magic, and his friends were there, and his wand would get snapped and he would have to be at his aunt's house until he was of age…__

__Stood still in the middle of the room, he watched the window tentatively. The owl had to come soon, right? Last time in Second Year it took practically no time at all. God, Hermione's going to be _livid_. _ _

__

__After a few minutes of impatient waiting and fidgeting, Harry's common sense ran out the window and he bolted out the door of his room with his wand still in hand._ _

__

__"Oi! What's that racket up there!" Uncle Vernon's voice shouted from downstairs when his door swung on it's hinges so hard that it crashed in to the wall. He paid no mind, only having a passing thought that, 'Oh. They don't really lock the door anymore do they?' before he ran down the stairs and made his way to the front door._ _

__

__"You there!" Uncle Vernon came bounding through from the living room where he was having a breakfast serving that could have put an entire army to shame. "What in God's name do you think you're doing, making a racket in my house?" He spat, glancing at Harry's wand and his eyes widening comically. "And what are you doing with that… _thing_ out?"_ _

__

__This was when his Aunt Petunia took the opportunity to appear from the kitchen, which surprised Harry because he forgot she could actually cook. "What is the meaning of this, boy?" She near screeched, eyes flitting to his wand._ _

__

__"I'm going out." Harry said simply, backing towards the front door and feeling behind him blindly for the doorknob._ _

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__"Out?" Vernon bellowed, "And who said you could do that?"_ _

__

__"I don't care." Harry said, glancing at the clock behind his Uncle. It was now half-seven. What time did the Ministry open again? "I'm leaving."_ _

__

__He turned around quickly to open the door, having found the knob when it pressed in to his back earlier. It jostled, but didn't budge._ _

__

__"Ha!" Vernon chortled behind him, "Can't get anywhere can you? Where's your magic now, if you can't even get passed a locked-"_ _

__

__Harry gripped the doorknob, closed his eyes and thought really hard. In a moment, the tell-tale click of the locks sounded and Harry wrenched the door open._ _

__

__"Wh-" Vernon started, but Harry was already gone, slamming the door behind him. He heard the screeching sound inside that may have been his aunt, but it was out of his mind immediately as he faced the barren street of Privet Drive. The sun was still low on the horizon, and the wind rustled the trees in a mocking dance of the mediocrity that was the whole area. He really hated it here._ _

__

__Stuffing his wand in his back pocket, he started off on a random path away from the house. As he passed by, the swish of a window curtain caught his eye, but after a few moments of looking there was no other movement. He picked up his pace from there, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking down at the ground._ _

__

__He finally came to a rickety swing set in a place no child should really be playing. One of the swings didn't look too rusted, so he sat down on it with a huff (before remembering to take his wand out his pockets. He'd seen Neville sit on his way too many times to be making the same mistake)._ _

__

__The rhythmic creak of the swing's hinges were his only companion as he sat, and did nothing but wait. If he really was going to be expelled, they would just have to find him first. He fiddled with his wand between his fingers, swaying back and forth for who knows how long._ _

__

__Before he knew it, the sun was almost at it's peak in the sky, and nothing had come for him. Nothing or no one._ _

__

__Maybe the owl got lost? Even though the chances of that are extremely low…_ _

__

__Maybe they were sending someone personally? If so, wouldn't they have found him by now? His relatives definitely weren't going to entertain them until he got back. He hadn't gone far either._ _

__

__If not any of that…maybe there was a small possibility that the Ministry hadn't even detected his use of magic. He tried to think of how Hermione would go about it. Besides berating him within an inch of his life, Harry predicted she may have said something along the lines of, _'since the Trace detects the use of magic of underage Witches and Wizards, this would of course only be through the passage of their wands since they're still sometimes prone to accidental bursts of magic.'_ _ _

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__

___'Meaning, Potter,'_ another voice cut in, _'your little show of miniscule wandless ability wasn't detected, and probably can be classified under as an 'accidental magical outburst'. The Ministry is none the wiser, to be short.'__ _

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__

__Harry smiled slightly, almost rolling his eyes, then stopped because it was probably weird to react to the made-up voices of your friends imaginatively talking to you in your head._ _

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__They did have a point, though._ _

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__

__He looked down at his wand and his other open palm. Wandless magic? He didn't really know much about it. He would have thought it all really was accidental if he hadn't managed to unlock the front door of Aunt Petunia's house. He definitely wanted it to happen, and it did. His fingers curled and uncurled. He held up his right hand experimentally, wand in the left. Could he really do all that? Had he gotten away with using magic?_ _

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__

__He held his arm out, palm open to the air. If could really use magic as he wished this way, he needed to see for sure._ _

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__

__" _Expecto Patronum._ " He murmured, bringing up the first good memory he could think of. It wasn't tangible, mostly just a feeling more than a clear memory. It was sunny, and he was flying on his broom. It could have been his first time flying, even, but it still felt different. The wind rush through his hair, the bite of the cold with the smooth touch of the sunlight. There was a feeling in his gut he might have gotten if he was in a free-fall, but he knew he was flying. _ _

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__

__He felt a hot warmth in his wrist, then it spread almost coldly through to the tips of his fingers. A soft, shimmery white light sifted out of his entire palm, almost invisible in the harsh glare of daylight. It curled in the air, reaching out to something away from him._ _

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__Right, then. A non-corporal Patronus definitely couldn't be accidental, right?_ _

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__

__He closed his palm, and the light faded away along with the thrumming of magic he was so suddenly aware of. That settled it, then. He was a bloody freak. As far as he knew, nobody else had this particular…affliction. Was he just weird, or did nobody talk about it? If that was the case, though, the Ministry wouldn't be letting people like him be able to use magic despite being aware of such a…skillset._ _

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__Harry sighed in to his palm, kneading his forehead as he felt a slight headache coming on. Tomorrow. He would look at it again tomorrow. He didn't know if it was all the additional casting, or the adrenalin from all the anxiety he had earlier, but he felt knackered and it was barely even midday._ _

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__He got off the swing with a groan, resigning himself to another episode of insane when he got back home. He'll probably be made to rework his aunt's entire garden again, or hopefully just get locked in his room for a week or so. It didn't really matter. It was all dirt either way._ _

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__Maybe he could write to Draco about his wandless thing….No. It might stress the other boy out. He didn't need to add on to it of all things._ _

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__He sighed, trudging up the path of Privet Drive where he could feel stares tingling the back of his head. It seemed no matter where he went, he would always be different._ _

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___Until tomorrow_ , he reminded himself._ _

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__


	28. Stagnant Waters Where A Heart Resides

Draco was hiding.

Through the wrought-iron bars of the long winding staircase of the Manor, he peaked through at the large wooden doors of the dining room. From where he was crouched, he was hidden from view but was still able to watch his father and four other men disappear in to the room just an hour prior. He had been given a day off from training unexpectedly just that morning, the first he'd had in the last few weeks since he'd arrived. 

Grimacing, he shifted uncomfortably. He used to be able to hide in that very spot just fine when he was younger. Sure, he was growing up, but he couldn't be _that_ old. Stretching his long legs out in front of him, he felt a dull throb in one of his knees that he'd fucked up somehow in training. The blasted thing had been giving him trouble for a week or so now, and it didn't seem to be going away. Draco shook his head to himself bitterly. Maybe if he got a bloody _day off_ like this one once in a while, his body might actually think to heal itself.

Could he say that to his father, though? Of bloody well course not. Draco didn't have a death wish just yet, and even if he did say something, his father would absolutely _insist_ on using magic to fix it.

As if Draco hadn't bloody _tried_. Magic could only do _so much_ , and his father would realise it if wasn't so blinded by his own beliefs. The belief that magic was better, that they were better because of it. Even that those born from those without were something to be scorned rather than welcomed. Had Draco really wanted to be like him for most of his life? No, Draco _had_ been like him for a very long time. As much as he hated that part of himself, it was a bitter part of his past that he tried very hard to forget.

Was he still just like his father, though? Draco sometimes wondered so as he laid in bed at night, body still too full of adrenalin from training to even sleep. He'd done terrible things before- _said_ terrible things to muggleborns and about muggles for majority of his life. He'd gone as far as singling them out, bullying them-

He took a sudden deep, shuddering breath. 

The shame was new, the more he lived like this. It didn't take until Harry talking to him that night of the Yule Ball, finding out about his father's involvement in the opening of the Chamber of Secrets and realising that yes, a war really was coming for him to see how blinded he was. He never told anyone - not even Harry - how he'd gone to sleep the night of the Yule Ball with his chest feeling like the gaping wound in it had been ripped open again.

Had Draco been a more prideful sort person, things may have gone differently after that night. Much to his father's distaste, however, Draco had always had his mother's demure, more sensitive attributes in him than his father's ruthlessness and strength. Not that his mother wasn't strong, but his father tried his very best to change those parts about Draco the most in his childhood. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't act how his father wanted him to for a very long time, and he was often stuck in between being himself like his mother, or taking the role of who his father wanted him to be.

"Pride is unbecoming." His mother used to say to him as a child, with a small, secret smile when his father wasn't in the room. Draco would smile back, but it was never returned after it disappeared off her face almost as if it had never happened. He never understood why, before he came to realise she never said things like that where his father could possibly hear, and the fact stayed with him tucked away for a very long time.

"A Malfoy has no time for a heart." His father would say to him in contrast. He'd once found Draco crying about something he couldn't recall anymore, and his father had crouched next to him, taking him the by the shoulders and continuing icily, "In time, the absence of it will be replaced with iron-will." He leant in, cold blue eyes like a splash of cold water over Draco's body, "Now _stop_ crying, Draco. Malfoys _do not_ cry."

Draco subsequently stopped being able to cry by the time he was eight years old. Even if he might have wanted to, he would repress it almost immediately and the urge became almost non-existent. It was like his body had been dried of tears completely, and so he tried to compensate for the lack of feeling by lashing out. He begun to mimic his father's anger and barking tone. He found himself getting jealous of others and irritated much more often. With everyone except his mother, Draco began to become his father and rid himself of his heart. 

He spent his first day at Hogwarts in turmoil, Harry Potter having just rejected his hand on the train. The Sorting Hat had placed him in Slytherin as expected, and Draco couldn't understand why his chest felt weird when it took almost no time at all for him to have been Sorted. 

He watched Potter get welcomed in to Gryffindor by the Weasley's and his other Housemates, and he felt a spike of something in his gut that made his skin feel like it was on fire. How _dare_ he, a supposed Wizard capable of taking down a Dark Wizard as a baby, reject him so outright? What could be possible be so wrong with Draco that he had said no? Harry Potter didn't look much at all, in his old, oversized clothes and wonky glasses. Draco was clearly better than him in every way, or so he believed at the time. Shouldn't it have been the other way around? Why was Draco the one feeling humiliated and left behind, and not Potter?

The feeling stayed with him all throughout the feast, and by the time students were finally led in to their dormitory's, Draco's chest had begun burn as if something inside him was melting. It was stifling, and by the time he'd fled in to the Slytherin bathrooms, his vision was blurry and his face was wet. He saw himself in the mirror, red-eyed and flushed and couldn't understand who that person was looking back. It had been so long…yet there he was, sobbing like a child as he gripped the edges of the porcelain sink with white knuckles.

He didn't understand what was happening. He had felt fine until then. He was content with life, and was so excited for his first day of Hogwarts until Harry Potter rejected his handshake. Rejected his _friendship_.

That was the first time in a good while that Draco had realised he couldn't always get what he wanted. 

It wasn't before a tall, dark-skinned boy walked in whistling and caught him with tears on his face did he manage to compose himself. He didn't look quite as phased as he should have been to see someone like Draco crying to themselves in the bathroom, but since he was also starting Hogwarts that day and needed to make a good impression, he offered Draco his friendship in that very bathroom (Draco willingly accepted despite the tear stains on his face that he'd desperately tried to wipe away moments before). Draco never really revealed why he had been crying in the bathroom to the boy, whom introduced himself as Blaise Zabini, but was pretty sure Blaise had figured it out eventually to his own amusement.

Naturally, Draco fell in line with other children from the most prominent Sacred-Eight families from then on. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were not the brightest, but they were far more tolerable than Pansy Parkinson, whom Draco took a few years to get used to being around before becoming good friends. 

It became easy from there, stepping In to the role he'd seen his father take so many times. No one dared oppose him, because at the end of the day, people were scared of his last name and what it could do. How he'd seen his father speak of muggleborns all his life, he would reflect on to the ones he went to classes with. The things his father had taught him about muggles, he would find in the bad taste in his mouth at the sight of them. All the whisperings and ideas his father threw at him magnified and inflated his sense of self, smug in the fact that he was _pure_ , and they were not. 

Eventually, he'd made himself a significant figure in the house of Slytherin despite his young age. He was as renowned as Potter was in his own House, only the Slytherins were less exhibitive of it. The more he begun to act like his father, the more he became a leader in Slytherin and the more his father rewarded him for it. Praise was sparse from the man, but with every highest mark or best of a muggleborn in Quidditch or classes, his father would actually smile at him for once and he would feel a happiness he rarely ever felt.

Draco became exceedingly good at the role, as time passed. He genuinely believed it was the best way for him to make his father proud and become the person needed to be the Heir of the Malfoy name. There were almost no repercussions for his actions, both at fault of the forced ignorance of the teachers and the fear of his name. The only negative feedback he ever openly received was from rare instances from students in other houses, and Potter.

And Draco, no matter how much he tried, could never control the influx of emotions he had when it came to Potter. 

It was like the feeling of rejection he'd had in First Year never really left him, and every time he saw the scar-headed idiot he'd felt the need to lash out in order to control the horrible feelings inside his chest. It didn't matter what, even if it was insulting his muggleborn friend, Granger, or his ginger side-kick from a disgraced Pureblood family, Weasley, he just needed to provoke Potter in any way. He'd resented Granger and Weasley especially, because they were nothing, and Potter had still chosen them over him. Draco had everything, yet Potter looked at him like he was nothing himself. 

How could he have been bested by a muggleborn like Granger in grades every year, and how could Weasley been a better friend to Harry Potter than he could have ever been? It irritated Draco to no end, and he watched them as much as possible to gain any sense of an idea as to why such was the case.

It was the small things, over the years as he kept his eye on Potter and his friends. How they laughed with each other during meal times, Potter's tendency to push the middle of his glasses up over the bridge of his nose because they slipped when he did so. Granger's reassuring touches, Weasley's dramatic facial expressions as the three talked. It was always the three of them, wrapped up in some plot or other each year. They never left any space for anyone else, even the Weaslette as she tried to join their conversations from time to time. 

Draco hated it all with a burning passion, but he never missed those details. They spoke volumes despite their insignificance, and sometimes he thought he knew the answer to his questions before it slipped away promptly. He brushed them off as much as he could, until Third Year, when Granger slapped him across the face while Potter and the Weasel laughed. He'd run away, separating from Crabbe and Goyle all the way back in to the Slytherin bathrooms. 

He looked at himself in the mirror once again, and realised he was crying in the same place as First Year. It was ironic that that was where Blaise found him again, but this time Draco couldn't stop crying when he was there. He'd felt _stupid_. Humiliated. Directionless. He broke down in front of Blaise, and the boy surprised him as he wrapped his arms around Draco as he cried, and wondered why he could never sate the sensation in his chest that just hurt so much. Day by day, the clawing feeling festered inside him. It made his stomach uneasy, increasing with every muggleborn he scorned and every sneer at Potter. He didn't know who he was, only that he wasn't who his father wanted him to be anymore. As much as it hurt to force himself, he found himself believing in it all less and less, and it scared him like nothing had before.

Blaise didn't say anything about the whole ordeal after that, although things between them had changed. To Draco's surprise, he didn't tell anyone or use Draco's moment of weakness to exploit him. When Draco outrightly asked why, Blaise shrugged and evaded the question wholly. 

From then on, they began to spend much more time together, and their trust built. By the end of Third Year, Draco could almost understand the Golden Trio's dynamics just that little bit, because he now had his own true friend, and that was Blaise. His questions were partially answered, as he saw the three together around the school and had his own friend to sit with in turn. It satisfied some curiosity inside him, knowing that Potter found company with his other two for the same reasons he found his with Blaise. 

The summer before Fourth Year, Draco's father was much busier than usual, so he rarely saw him. His mother left him alone mostly, so he was left to his own devices to hang around the Manor grounds by himself as the days passed. It should have been lonely, but it didn't feel like it. He would often go deep in to the woods at the very edge of the grounds, just exploring because he'd never done it before and realised no one was there who could stop him. He would pace with even steps through the woods, counting different species of potions ingredients he saw on the way on his fingers and stopping only when he reached ten, then starting again. It was incredibly peaceful, and he would often be out there from morning after breakfast, until dusk when a House Elf would summon him. It gave him a lot of time to think for himself, and something deep in his chest cracked in to place just slightly during that summer beneath the July sun. 

When he got back to Hogwarts for Fourth Year, he was more sure of himself. He still hated Potter, though, and didn't hesitate to let him know of the fact. If it seemed his usual jabs at other muggleborns or non-purebloods didn't have their usual bite, however, no one seemed to bring it to attention. Draco still believed they were lesser, just like his father had told him, but didn't find it in himself to particularly care or act on it. Maybe it was his mother's blood in him that made him complacent, but he found being that little bit honest with himself over summer had healed the wound in his chest just marginally. Muggles were ignorant, and muggleborns may have been corrupting magical society, but Draco just couldn't find a reason to go after them like he did before. He begun to form a mask of cool indifference around himself, and in turn that protected him from the backlash if his Housemates thought he was a sympathiser to the muggles. 

It wasn't until Potter asked him to the Ball that that indifference begun to crack. Potter infuriated him to no end, but the usual painful feeling he got when he saw him had just begun to fade away by that point. As soon as he'd asked, though, all those feelings came back with full force and _Merlin_ , how he wanted to watch Potter crash and burn at the Ball. He took Potter's hand and shook it with raging fervor, and went on to have his life changed in one night.

He wasn't sure if it was Potter's passion, or what he said that was so convincing, but being a lover of logic, Draco really couldn't argue with what Potter said. He'd wondered some time after that if someone had maybe told him all this earlier, then it might have saved him from killing who he was to be his father all his life. 

When Potter held his hand out for a truce, Draco found he was looking at him not with the same disdain he had for years, but as an equal for once. Something had panged in Draco's chest, but it wasn't painful, so he willingly agreed and hasn't looked back since. 

Now he'd come this far from who his father was, and Harry Potter was his _friend_. Sure, he'd been tortured by a Death Eater, almost killed and now on constant threat of his life as he willingly agrees to betray one very powerful Dark Wizard, but he'd never felt more like himself. Neither his parents were quite so adventurous, but Draco found a thrill in the danger and chase of things that he realised was individual to himself, and he wouldn't change a thing. The pain in his chest was barely there, and every day he tried to quell the shame of his past actions and mend his beliefs. It was a constant task of reminding himself that his first impressions of others on terms of blood were taught by his father, and were in no way his own individual beliefs. It wasn't easy, especially as much as he slipped up internally around himself and had to sit down and think things over, but he was a smart person. If he could learn complex arithmancy formulas, he could recondition his way of thinking _that_ much. 

Sometimes, he didn't know if Harry still thought he was the same terrible person he was before, but he wouldn't blame him if he did. Draco wasn't a nice person, and he didn't have a heart of gold like Harry did hidden down somewhere inside him. He just hoped that if he did as much as he could for this coming war, regardless of his horrible personality, maybe he'd finally extract himself from his father's shadow of ideologies and end the cycle with him. 

And he especially hoped, with all his being, that they would survive this whole thing together. Sometimes it seemed impossible, but Draco was a fairly competent Wizard, and so was Harry (although he wouldn't admit it in front of him). Harry's friends weren't so bad either - emphasis on Granger rather than the Weasel. He had never been nice to them, but he really hoped he could make it up to them for not just his own sake, but Harry's. 

Maybe just Granger, though. Weasley would always be…well, Weasley.

-o-o-

His father spent a good three hours with his guests in the Dining Room, and Draco may or may not have fallen asleep a bit in between. It was probably his first nap in weeks, though, so he allowed it. 

He'd surmised that his father's guests probably weren't on the good side of neither the Ministry nor the law, telling by their shabby appearances that just screamed 'criminal'. When they finally did leave, however, Draco managed to catch a hint of their conversation as the door opened and their voices filtered out.

"-ated it. You're part will be most useful." One of the men said, walking out with his father right behind.

"It is my honor. Please relay my regards to the Lord, if you will." His father replied, and Draco's blood chilled. "When can I next expect his presence?"

"Soon." The man replied. "He is still weak, but none more than before."

"I see. We'll make sure to get Potter this time…" His father's voice faded as he and the other men walked away, and Draco took the opportunity to run up the stairs to his room. 

He quickly went to his fireplace, just recently hooked to the Floo Network after pestering his mother for a week. He threw in the Floo Powder, and announced, "Prince Manor." with a whirl of green flames.

His Godfather's face immediately surfaced in the coals, and Draco had never been so glad to see the man's sour face before. He crouched in front of the fireplace, ignoring the twinge of pain in his bad knee. 

"Draco." His Godfather sighed.

"Hello, Severus." Draco didn't know why he was so excited, except for seeing another face after weeks that wasn't either of his parent's. 

"May I help you?" Severus droned irritably, but Draco paid no mind.

"Yes. You need to get me out of here, Severus. I'm going _barking_."

Even the coals couldn't hide his Godfather's displeased expression, but Draco continued anyway. "Father's making me worse my arse-"

" _Draco_."

"Right, sorry. He's making me work like a _dog_ , and Dumbledore said I could come to you for help since you're apparently _not_ a-" Draco lowered his voice, " _Death Eater_. And so I need you to get me out this bloody house somehow. Even for a day, I just want _out_."

Severus was silent for a long time, but Draco knew it was best just to wait it out. After thirty silent seconds of the crackling coals for company, Draco heard a long, drawn out sigh and almost let out a whoop of joy. 

"I see." Severus said flatly. "I understood this might happen. You aren't in any immediate danger, so I wouldn't normally entertain such futile requests."

Draco deflated, but Severus went on, "However," And Draco smiled. "Dumbledore has requested your presence come August for some Order business."

Draco did recall Dumbledore saying something about an Order and a Phoenix. 

"Where?" Draco asked.

"That isn't necessary right now. Just be ready when I summon you. Don't worry about your father, I will handle him."

Draco couldn't help the beaming smile that spread over his face. "Thank _Merlin_. You're the best, Uncle Severus!"

His Godfather's face only became more sour, if such a thing were possible. "Just be ready. Goodby-"

"No, wait!" Draco stopped him, then paused. "Will, erm, will Potter be there?"

If there was a way for Severus to strangle him through the Floo network, he probably would have at that moment. His face was twisted in to a frown so much, Draco almost couldn't recognise him. "I am unsure of such trivial details, and I even I were, I _fail_ to recognise how they would apply to you. Now _goodbye,_ Draco." And he was gone as the coals died out promptly as well.

At least he'd tried.

Draco sat back with a relieved sigh, but grimaced immediately and crawled up to stand when his knee protested. If he could jump for joy, he would, and if he could let out a celebratory yell, he would. Neither his blasted knee nor his mother's possible intrusion would allow it though, so he settled for flopping on to his bed with a contented sigh. 

The mid-day light from outside shone through his window, and it flickered momentarily as a bird flew past. He sat up, glancing at the window and the grounds outside. It was a considerably clear day, especially since the weather in Wiltshire was almost under constant overcast. He saw the mouth of the dense woods at the far end, and moved his eyes to his left knee. 

"Behave." He told the knee, and it only stung slightly in response when he moved it experimentally. That, he could work with. Heaving himself up with a small wince, he grabbed his wand off the nightstand and started towards the door.

He snuck through the house and made it outside without meeting anyone on the way. Luckily, the weather was as warm as he'd hoped it was when he saw from inside, and he was glad he'd forgone an outer jumper or coat. A warm wind sifted past him, and the inside of his white cotton shirt cooled with it. He wasn't quite used to such sunlight, and his mother surely wouldn't have approved, but he couldn't see anything bad about it at the moment as it beat down on his skin and fought away the chill he got from the Manor's dark halls. He made his way across the grounds, closing his eyes and turning his head up to the sky. He felt the tip of his nose warming, and his fingertips buzzed as they thawed. He never realised how cold he got inside the Manor because he'd grown so used to it over the years. 

Finally, he made it to the mouth of the forest, and he could see that it was far darker inside than the open field in between it and the Manor. He looked back at it now, a tall, dark spot in the otherwise green surroundings, and turned back to the forest. Deciding the forest was far less imposing, he started inside and fell in line with the hushed, tranquil atmosphere in the wood. 

He passed through towering trees and over far-reaching roots that could have been bigger than he was if above the ground. The canopy of leaves above him obscured the sky, and it felt cooler than on the walk there from the lack of sunlight. A layer of moisture settled on his skin, making his shirt stick and the hair at the nape of his neck curl. He could hear the distant whistle of birds and whirr of insects around him, but Draco kept his focus on the ground as he began to count.

 _Root of Asphodel_. 

"One" He muttered.

_Wormwood_

"One."

_Fluxweed_

"One."

_Wormwood._

"Two."

_Aconite_

"One."

And he continued like that until his legs ached and his knee throbbed, reaching the number ten for each ingredient three times. He stopped walking after that, standing still in a small clearing he had never seen before. The trees broke just enough for a ray on sunlight to rain down on the area. He brought up a hand to block the light as he looked up at the sky again, the wind dancing through his hair and clothes unexpectedly. It smelt of rain and earth, but the air felt fresh in his lungs. 

_We'll make sure to get Potter this time._

Draco's skin erupted in goosebumps as he remembered the words from his father. He couldn't let that happen, no matter what.

Letting his knees buckle, he reached the ground and sat back until he faced the sun again on his haunches. He looked up still, but the sun had already moved place and he didn't have to avert his eyes from the sky. It was a pale blue, and a bird soared across even higher than where the trees stopped growing. He closed his eyes and let the wind cool the moisture through the thin cotton shirt he was wearing. A sense of calm settled inside of him, like the silent waters before a storm. He felt it in his chest, where there was no longer any pain anymore. Something had replaced it along the way, burning over the wound, closing it shut. It felt full. He reached a hand up to clutch his chest over the spot, and felt a heartbeat beneath his palm. His hand squeezed the fabric, initiating a long exhale from deep in his lungs. The rise and fall of his chest grounded him, proof that he was alive. Proof that he had a heart. He was alive, he had a heart, he was Draco. Not his father, and not Malfoy.

His face stung as the wind collided with the tears rolling down his face, and he opened his blurry eyes to the leaves above swaying gently. He wondered why he knew what this feeling was, even though he'd never felt it before until he remembered that night of the Yule Ball, when he'd stood next to Harry and felt the first bit of peace inside his aching chest in forever. 

Peace. So this is the glimpse of it he'd felt back then. It was nothing compared to now, as it seeped in to his bones against his will like being caught in a tide on a full moon. This was cataclysmic, shaking the foundations Draco stood on with open arms as if in askance of so specifically.

_Let it all fall._

He thought of his father, the Mark on his forearm and the lack thereof on Draco's own. 

_Fall and burn._

The wind died, and he was left in stagnancy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! what i really intended for this chapter was to sort of fill in the gaps as to why Draco is the way that he is, because it had been bothering me that it seemed like he became a good person in one night. I wanted to convey that the way Draco had been conditioned from childhood, in terms of his beliefs in proportion to his actions, would have been difficult to change in a person just like that. It's pretty detrimental to his character that because of his willingness to change, and patience to re-teach himself how to look at things in another perspective, he is very capable of being a person Harry can actually stand and forgive for his past actions. 
> 
> promise things will pick up pace in the next chapter. thank you if you're still reading!


	29. Dudley see's the light

Screaming. He didn't know if it was his mother's or his own. 

A flash of green light. The deep, baritone hiss of a snake echoing down a long corridor. He needed to get to the end of that corridor…just a few more steps…but his legs felt like lead. Like wading through thick mud, swallowing him up the more he moved…

_Bring it to me…_ a voice hissed. The lamps lining the corridor flashed from amber to green, bathing everything in a sickly tint. 

_Bring it to me…_

He was so close…Just a little more…

_Soon…_

_Soon…Harry…Potter-_

Harry's eyes flew open to the dark wooden ceiling of his room. His body was frozen. He tried to move his limbs but found them stiff and unresponsive. There was a sinking feeling in his chest…Like he would never be able to get up again…

_I can't move._

His vision was encompassed by darkness except from the faint light of the streetlamps from outside reaching in. They cast shadows on the walls and ceiling, swaying back and forth above him…

Like tendrils of black cloth floating through the air.

Adrenalin immediately flooded through his body. There was nothing outside his window that should have been able to cast shadows in to his room, yet on the walls he could see dark tendrils of blocked light approaching.

_Get up._ He told his unmoving body. His mind willed it to move, to get off the bed and face the danger, but it stayed stubbornly still. The shadows closed in slowly and the room dropped several degrees. His mind wanted to move, but his body didn't comply.

_Get up, Harry._

His body felt as if on fire as it kicked in to a fight or flight response while also adjusting to the frigid temperature invading upon the room. He heard a faded scream in his ears, but it was so familiar to him that he didn't even have to remind himself that it was from inside his head. His mother's cried filled his head as he felt himself slipping further in to the abyss in his mind, and panic gripped him so hard he felt his fists grip the sheets of his bed. 

_Get up!_ He screamed at himself. _Move!_

In his mind's eye, the flash of green light kept replaying over and over. The room only got colder, and he felt the darkness closing in. 

" _Please! Not Harry…Spare my son!_ " He heard the pleas, now so loud and clear he almost thought his mother was in the room with him. His chest ached at her words. They'd never been that audible, and it pained him to have to hear his mother's last moments spent on pleading for his life.

Knowing he had to do something before the Dementor slipped through the window, before it got close enough that he wouldn't be able to fight off the darkness anymore, Harry squeezed his eyes shut and recited a spell he'd done many times before in his head. He focused on the incantation, trying to sound it out in his head around the screams of his mother. He took his mind to how the spell felt, trying to become it completely.

Then miraculously, his body filled with warmth starting from his chest outwards. His limbs loosened, and he opened his eyes to see a faint white glow covering his body in a thin, translucent layer. He craned his head to the window and saw the Dementor almost completely inside. He shot up, scrambling off the bed as his heart raced. He glanced at his wand on the other side of his room, then back at the window, swearing.

"Accio!" He shouted on instinct, throwing his hand out and feeling the cool wood of his wand slap in to his palm almost immediately. He thrust it at the window, now completely darkened as the Dementor closed in.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ " He screamed, a burst of white light forming a radiant stag from his wand. The Dementor immediately coiled away, and the stag fought it off with it's antlers. He watched it wane away with his arm outstretched in anticipation, blood thrumming with fear and the last remnants of declining despair the Dementor had brought with it.

The stag reared its head repeatedly until the Dementor recoiled, turning away as the wisps of light attacked it. The Dementor withered away, leaving only Harry's Patronus bathing the entire room in a white glow. He stood still, poised with his wand at the window and watching for any signs to see if the Dementor would reappear. His breath was coming in heavy, but thankfully the heavy weight in his chest had finally left. 

He quickly took the time to grab his glasses and put them on, before pounding footsteps suddenly sounded on the thin floorboards outside his door. They were coming from- Shit. Uncle Vernon's room. The stag immediately blinked out, and the room was dark once again.

"Oi!" A banging at his door. "What's all this? Open this door, boy!"

Harry scrambled, going to the door and realising it wasn't open on his side either. "It's locked!" He yelled, backing away.

A few expletives from Uncle Vernon, and another pair of footsteps sounded, this time lighter. Aunt Petunia, then. The locks on his door jingled and the handle jostled before Uncle Vernon came bounding in, looking extremely sweaty and wild-eyed. His eyes immediately locked on Harry's wand still held in his hand, and he seethed.

"You!" He bellowed, stomping forward and grabbing Harry by the collar of his nightgown. He shook him roughly, continuing to spit on Harry's face as he yelled, "What did you do, you devil? What was that just now?"

Harry looked over his Uncle's shoulder, where Aunt Petunia was stood with tears streaking down her face and looking worse for wear. She stared at Harry with wide, fearful eyes for a moment, then turned away to presumably where Dudley's room was. 

"Answer me!" Vernon's spittle rained on Harry's face again.

"It wasn't me-" Harry started.

"I know it was, Potter! Does your school know you're using that vile thing?" He glared at the wand in Harry's wand and back at him.

"It was a Dementor." Harry explained, "I used a spell to-"

A shrill scream filled the air from the room next door. " _Dudley!_ "

"Petunia!" His Uncle yelled, panicked. He let go of Harry quickly and ran out of the room. Harry immediately followed, expecting the Dementor to have returned and gripping his wand tightly in preparation. When he entered Dudley's room, however, he was met with the boy curled up in his mother's arms as she sobbed over him. He was white as a sheet, his skin sheened with sweat and his eyes staring off in to space.

"Dudley!" Vernon shouted, rushing to his son's side. 

"My boy!" Aunt Petunia wailed.

"He'll be fine." Harry said, but the words were overpowered by his relative's panic. Dudley's eyes found him, and Harry was surprised to find them fearful, and almost regretful.

"H…Him…" Dudley stuttered out, refocusing Uncle Vernon's raging gaze on Harry.

"You!" Vernon roared. "You better undo whatever it is you've done to him, or so help me-"

"I didn't do anything!" Harry shouted. "I said it earlier! A Dementor just attacked and I only used magic to fight it off!"

"D…Dad." Dudley said weakly, garnering the attention of his father once more. "It's true…I saw the light…"

" _Oh heavens!_ " His mother shrieked. "Duddykins, stay with us!"

"No, mum." Dudley said, his voice slightly firmer. "It was him. He made that… _thing_ …go away. With the light. It came from his room in to mine."

"That thing was a Dementor." Harry said levelly at Dudley and ignoring his Aunt and Uncle, "It sucks the happiness out of you. That's why you feel the way you do right now." 

"Excuse me!" Vernon cut in, "I don't care what demented or dementia came for you, boy. It attacked my son!"

"It attacked both of us." Harry said resignedly.

"He's suffering!" Aunt Petunia cried.

"He'll live." Harry said. "There shouldn't be any lasting damage. Just give him some chocolate-"

Dudley immediately perked up at this, and Aunt Petunia shot up and out of the room to retrieve some chocolate. Uncle Vernon stood, his reddened face clashing horribly with his blue striped pajamas.

"I want you out of this house." Vernon hissed. "I don't care where you go. Leave!"

"It's not even my fault!" Harry yelled.

"I don't give a damn! That thing came because of you, terrorising my _son!_ "

Aunt Petunia returned, rushing to Dudley's side to nurse him with coaxes of chocolate in to his mouth. His face regained some colour back as she cooed over him. It was enough to make Harry's stomach churn.

"Fine." Harry said through gritted teeth as he wrenched his gaze from the sickly display. "I'm going."

As he turned away, Vernon shouted at him from behind, "If this demented was so bad, then why didn't I feel anything?"

"Because you don't have feelings!" Harry shot back over his shoulder, before slamming Dudley's bedroom door behind him and stomping to his room. 

Once inside, he made sure to slam the door loudly behind him again, then begun ripping off his nightgown. He threw on a pair of jeans and jumper before noticing a tapping sound on his window. He turned quickly and pointed his wand at the sound before seeing it was an owl. In it's talons was a rolled letter with a familiar red seal.

A Ministry Owl, then.

He opened up the window and the owl flew in. Immediately, the letter unrolled itself and begun to speak.

"Dear Mr Potter, the Ministry has received intelligence that at two forty-three, this morning, you performed the Patronus Charm in the presence of a Muggle. As a clear violation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, you are hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hoping you are well, Mafalda Hopkirk."

Harry clicked his tongue. He had been expecting it, but he didn't believe it would actually _happen_.

"It wasn’t even in the presence of a muggle." He muttered to himself, "We live in the same _house_." He grabbed the letter out of the air and chucked in to the bin, shaking his head. 

Hurriedly, he packed everything he owned in to his trunk. For once, he was glad he didn't own much, since it managed to take him less than ten minutes. He coaxed Hedwig in to her cage, laced up his trainers, and looked around his room one last time. It wasn't much less bare than when his things had occupied it, and without a backwards glance or lingering thought, he turned and left the room with his trunk and Hedwig's cage dragging behind him.

He believed he had safely escaped by the time he got to the door, before hearing the heavy thuds of Uncle Vernon approaching from upstairs.

"Where in _God's name_ do you think you're going?" Vernon spat, bounding down the stairs.

"You told me to leave!"

"And where will you go?" Vernon shouted.

"Anywhere but here!" Harry said back just as loudly. He managed to half turn around before Uncle Vernon grabbed him by the shoulder.

"You will go back in to that room," Vernon growled, grabbing Harry by the collar of his jumper and lifting him until he was balancing on the balls of his feet, "Or so help me, I will _drag you_ there myself!"

Harry tried to wrestle himself away, but his Uncle's grip was too strong. He couldn't move properly, and a suffocating feeling grasped his chest. Vernon only shook Harry harder, and shoved him forwards towards the stairs.

"Uncle Vernon- No!"

"Get up there." Vernon said, his eyes glazed over beyond the edge of rage. He had a painful iron grip on Harry's arm as he handled him towards the first step.

Then, as the pain in Harry’s arm gave a particularly nasty twinge, Uncle Vernon yelped and released Harry as though he had received an electric shock — some invisible force seemed to have surged through Harry's body, making him impossible to be touched.

"Blast!" Uncle Vernon yelped, his body coiling away. Harry took this opportunity to shove past Vernon, grab his things and head towards the door. He unlocked it wandlessly, and stepped in to the cool night air. He heard his Uncle bellowing behind him, but there was no move made to follow him from anyone in the house.

Making sure to cast a wandless _Collaportus_ behind him, Harry set off with his trunk and Hedwig hooting irritably in her cage. The moon was low in the sky, but it was full enough to give him enough light to see the prim street of Privet Drive. He considered casting a shrinking charm on his things, but decided not to risk it in case the Trace would track him further. He didn't think he could do it without a wand, either. From the strong Patronus' he'd cast, along with the other wandless spells, he was tired beyond belief. His legs dragged slightly behind him as he trudged along the pavement. 

A sense of despair then settled on him that wasn't far off from the feeling he'd get if a Dementor were near. What would he do now? He was _expelled_. Hogwarts was the closest thing to a home he had…Surely they wouldn't let him off for underage magic a second time? Wouldn't they also snap his wand? He looked down at it, still in his hand for some reason. He didn't care if the muggles on this street saw. That would be his aunt and Uncle's problem-

"Psst!" A voice hissed. Harry quickly pocketed it his wand, scrambling around to the source of the voice. "You! Potter!"

It was Mrs. Figg, and Harry almost recoiled away. Flashbacks on uncomfortable days with her babysitting him flashed across his eyes. She was _weird_. Her and her many, many cats…

"Potter! Come here quickly!"

Harry quickly made his way to her front porch where she was standing and peering around furtively along the street. He stood in front of her for a few moments, before her eyes finally landed on him her lips tightened impatiently.

"Well? Don't just stand there. Come inside." 

He hesitated as she immediately turned around and marched inside, before shrugging to himself and following. Hedwig hooted warningly behind him, where he'd hidden his stuff behind a bush, but he dutifully ignored her. 

He stepped In to the house, the heating inside washing over him like slipping in to a warm bath. The sounds of Mrs. Figg in the kitchen steered his direction, and he followed it unthinkingly, with only the brief wondering if she had any chocolate on hand that he could possibly eat. He could swear he vaguely heard the woman muttering something about a thing called a 'Mundungus' as the sound of the kettle sounded.

"Sit down, Potter." She said when he entered the kitchen without turning around. "I have much to tell you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like a negligent parent and this fic is my child.


	30. Head-Hovel of the Order of the Phoenix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit unusual because i personally rarely ever see it, but i decided to stay true to Jackass Rowling's spectacular mystic of prose and use consistent capital letters for whenever Harry is shouting. I always thought there was some unspoken rule where you couldn't actually do that, but ig it's a thing for her. Harry must be bloody loud. Trust me, it felt weird and improper, but the texts are what they are.

They stood in front of a dreary row of houses, all desolate and pressed closely together on the lane of a muggle street in London. Draco's stomach churned uneasily from the press of Apparition just moments before. He let go of Professor Snape's arm as soon as they landed, and Snape started towards the houses without a word.

"Erm…Sir?" Draco said tentatively, eyeing the grimy houses wearily while scurrying next to his Godfather. "Are you sure we're in the right pla-"

Snape shoved a strip of paper in Draco's face and Draco snatched it away irritably, looking at it with a click of his tongue.

_Order of the Phoenix Headquarters._

_Number 12, Grimmauld Place_

_London_

"Sir, what is thi-"

A loud, ear-splitting grinding sound stopped him. He looked up to see the houses numbered eleven and thirteen splitting in between themselves. Slowly, they separated to reveal another house in between. On the front was the number 12, ornately detailed in black metal next to a barren looking door. 

"Is this…" 

"Grimmauld Place." Snape said next to him, looking at the house with the same amount of repulsion Draco felt.

"Oh." Draco said dully, "Where's the rest of it." Snape coughed suspiciously in to his sleeve next to him and Draco looked back down at the paper, "And what's this for?"

"Fidelius charm."

"Wh- really?" Draco said excitedly, looking back at the house with wide eyes.

"Mm. Yes." Snape said, obviously not listening, then swished away towards the house. Draco crushed the paper in his palm and pocketed it, rushing to catch up with the man. 

So the house was under a Fidelius Charm. He'd never seen one in real life before - but then again that was kind of the point. Over the summer he couldn't help but look in to the charm a bit more while he'd been meant to be learning Latin. The spell was never actually specified to be cast to hide a house or location, but it was the most common and sensical choice so the two became synonymous over time. The only actual parameters of the spell were to hide a secret within one's soul, which worked out just fine for Draco. If only that idiot Harry would agree to do the spell…

While Draco had been thinking, Snape had knocked on the door three times, and by the time he'd registered it, the split realisation that there were actually other _people_ going to be there was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley opening the door.

"Oh! Severus. Albus mentioned you were arriving today. Please come in." She said, immediately stepping to the side to let the pass with a smile. She nodded at Snape as he passed through, although he barely returned the gesture except with a curt nod. As soon has her eyes landed on Draco, however, her face lit up. "Oh, Draco darling!" 

Before Draco knows it, he's swept up in to a crushing hug by the woman.

"Er, hello Mrs. Weas-" He tried to say through her bushy hair as he's pressed in to her shoulder.

"Molly's just fine, dear." She said, pulling back with another warm smile. Draco tried to replicate it, but feels like it comes across more pained than friendly. "Now, how are you?" Her eyes passed over him and Draco is terrified to see a glint of unsatisfaction in them. 

"I'm well, ma'am. How are y-"

"Just fine, Draco. Now, Ron and the other's are all upstairs so take the first flight and not any higher, understand?"

Draco perked up despite hearing the Weasel's name. "Everyone? Is Har-"

"Yes, dear." She started leading him towards the flight of stairs with her hands on his shoulders. "Now while walking up the stairs you may come across a draped painting. Do _try_ your best to keep quiet around that one. She's especially volatile and Merlin knows what she'll be like when she sees you. That's a good dear"

"She, ma'am?"

"Shh. Now, lunch will be ready soon, but until then don't come downstairs as there are Order meetings happening." 

She let go of his shoulders as they reached the foot of the stairs, and Draco craned his neck backwards to see the kitchen door closed and Snape gone.

"Off you go, lad." She prompted sweetly, and with another attempt at a smile he climbed up the stairs feeling her gaze on his back. He didn't know what it was he did, but the woman had a intense focus on him he didn't understand. 

Walking up the stairs, he did indeed pass the curtain-draped painting and heeded Molly's advice by tip toeing past it. Once he reached the top of the first flight, he saw the long, dark hallway and after moment, paused. He hadn't heard it earlier because of the sound of his step on the old wooden floorboards, but now he could make out a loud, raised voice.

Taking another step, he found it was coming from one of the rooms. He took one step forwards before his brain registered the twinge of familiarity in the voice. His heart jumping, he immediately raced towards the sound and threw open the door. He stood in the doorway, chest heaving, before he was hit with the sound of loud shouting coming from a person stood inside the room.

"-FOUR WEEKS I'VE BEEN STUCK IN PRIVET DRIVE, NICKING PAPERS OUT OF BINS TO TRY TO FIND OUT WHAT'S BEEN GOING ON -"

Draco saw Ronald and Granger in the corner, just shy of looking like animals backed in to a corner. "We wanted to -"

"I SUPPOSE YOU'VE BEEN HAVING A REAL LAUGH, HAVEN’T YOU," Harry interrupted, stood with his fists clenched and facing away from Draco. "ALL HOLED UP HERE TOGETHER -"

"Harry!" Draco barked, and all three heads whipped to him at once. Granger gasped and Ronald grimaced, while Harry stood looking over his shoulder with a feral, angry glint in his eyes that made him look more like the animal in the room than the other two.

"Draco?" Granger said after a moment, shocked. Ronald stood next to her with his mouth agape, graceful as always.

"Yes?" He answered impatiently, not taking his eyes off Harry, whom was staring at him indiscernibly with his back still half turned and pulled taut as if poised to strike at someone.

"Er…" Draco heard Ronald's voice. 

"Malfoy." Harry finally said, tone flat and tight.

Draco raised an eyebrow and blood rushed in his ears. "Oh, Malfoy now, is it?"

Harry's shoulder's sagged slightly after that and his eyes lost a fraction of anger, "I -"

But Draco was already looking at Granger, "What's all this about?" He asked curtly.

"I'm right here." Harry said before she could open her mouth, his tone already beginning to rise to a shout, "Ask _me_ , if you're so curi -"

"You're in no headspace to answer my questions." Draco said evenly, but the words were cold and sharp. "Calm down and stop shouting. Once you can -"

Harry huffed a hollow, humourless laugh, but Draco continued, " _Once_ you can converse maturely, then I'll ask you my questions. Until then , _Potter_ , sit down and take a minute."

At the mention of his last name from Draco, Harry turned away and threw himself on to the bed across the only other in the room, which was occupied by Harry's friends. He sat and drew his knees up to his chest, his head turned away. The sight looked so small and vulnerable that Draco had to tear his eyes away back to Granger.

"Morning, Granger." He said gently, his heart slowing down once more.

"Morning, Draco." She returned the greeting, looking extremely relieved. "I assume you're here for…?"

"Dumbledore called for me. Says this place is for an Order?"

"The Order of the Phoenix." She said, garnering a look from Harry. "It's a secret society that Dumbledore founded. It, erm, fought against _you-know-who_ last time."

"And this is Headquarters?" Draco asked distastefully, and Granger nodded grimly. "Merlin." He muttered.

"How come you're here, then?" Ronald piped up skeptically beside Granger. 

A flare of irritation shot through Draco, "I just said why, didn't I?"

"Who's in it?" Harry asked Granger, ignoring Ronald and Draco. Her eyes darted to him quickly, looking wearily as if he might start yelling again.

"Quite a few people -"

"I saw around twenty already." Ronald interrupted, shooting a glare at Draco, "But there must obviously be more."

"Problem, Weasley?"

"You came with Snape, I presume?" Granger looked back at Draco, and he nodded.

"Are you lot ignoring me?" Ronald said in disbelief, but Draco made a point of ignoring the boy while sharing a surreptitious smirk with Granger to his surprise.

Draco looked over at Harry and the smile that had been on his face faded. The boy was looking at him quizzically, and Draco was starting to feel self-conscious. In the background, he could hear Ronald whining pathetically to Granger about something. 

After a moment, Harry flicked his head to the door, gesturing for them to leave. His face was darkened by shadows from the weak light on the ceiling that didn't reach where he was. Draco glanced at the other two and saw them busy arguing amongst each other, so he looked back at Harry and nodded.

Harry got up first, brushing past Draco on the way through the doorway without a word. He caught Granger's eye on the way out, and nodded reassuringly. Surprisingly, she relaxed and let them go as Ronald finally noticed Harry's absence.

"Hey! Where do yo-"

Granger elbowed the boy in the side, "Hush!' 

Draco turned away before Ronald could see his smirk, and went further down the hallway where he'd seen Harry enter one of the rooms. Stepping in, Draco was hit with a wave of something between the mix of nostalgia and nausea. He paused in the doorway, crinkling his nose.

Harry stood at a window on the wall opposite the door, looking how with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Hearing Draco step in and close the door, he looked over his eyebrows furrowed and the same pissed off expression he'd had earlier.

Draco leaned on the door behind him, crossing his legs at the ankles and hands behind his back. They were silent for a while, Draco at the door looking at Harry while Harry stood by the window looking back at him, seething. He could see Harry biting the inside of his cheek, and Draco pushed himself off the door with a sigh. 

"I-"

"You what?" Harry snapped.

" _Don't_." Draco hissed warningly. "Just _don't_. I didn't come in here to fight with you, and Merlin help the _both of us_ if we're pissed off at the same time in this room."

"I don't give a damn, Malfoy." Harry shot back, causing something uncomfortable to sift in Draco's chest. "If I'm such a problem - If I piss you off so much, then do something about it! Not like anybody here would give a shit!"

"Oh, save me the pity!" Draco scoffed, "You know that isn't true. I can't even believe you could say that about _anyone_ in this house-"

"I wouldn't if they hadn't acted like I was a dead man the whole month! Like I was less than important enough to be in that house with _nothing_. No news. No letters. Not even my friends could tell me a damn thing!"

"They said they _tried_ -"

"If you'd have read them, Draco, you'd understand." Harry said gravely, "If you'd been locked up in that room like I had been, you'd understand!" He took a step forwards, hand clenched at his sides and the light from the window behind him outlining his silhouette in silver against the dark room. Draco could barely see his face, but he knew if he could've he wouldn't have been as confident in being anyone in the same room as the other boy. "I sit in dirt the whole day, waiting for something! Listening to the television for any information at all because he's fucking back and I don't know what the fuck is happening!"

"That doesn't mean," Draco said, voice low but like a knife's edge, "That you can have a go at your friends like that. Did you know how loud you were? Did you bother to look at Granger's face? She looked so bloody _scared_ , Potter. It doesn't matter how bad you feel, is it really fair to treat them like that?"

"I DON'T CARE IF IT'S FAIR!" Harry shouted, face like a torrential storm, "WHAT ABOUT ME? WAS ANY OF IT FAIR ON ME?" 

The window behind him begun to rattle. Draco thumbed his wand in it's holster on his arm. Surreptitiously, he cast a silencing spell over the room. 

"IT WAS ME WHO SAW HIM! ME WHO FOUGHT HIM! I'M THE ONE WHO'S BLOOD HE TOOK. I HAVE THE SCARS. HE'S HERE BECAUSE OF ME!"

"Harry-"

"No, Draco!" Harry swiped an arm through the air in refusal, his voice thankfully lower than before. "Don't tell me about what's bloody fair! If things were fair, it wouldn't have taken a Dementor attack to get me to this house! I wouldn't have had to go to the bloody Ministry to get my wand snapped and expelled from Hogwarts!"

"Expel- Harry, what -"

"The only inkling of anything I got was from you! Not even my own friends-"

"SHUT IT!" Draco yelled, immediately spelling Harry in to silence. He took several steps forwards to where Harry was panting in place and his eyes were shining like fire. As he got closer, he realised he was beginning to look down at Harry - he'd overtaken him in height over the last month. He stopped in front of the other boy, looking down, and said angrily, "You're probably too angry to realise it right now, but just remember that you were the only one who saw Voldemort come back. It was just you that night, the rest being a bunch of Death Eaters. You don't have evidence, and the only thing anyone has to go on is your word for the moment. Despite all of this, the Order has reconvened, and all these people are here despite never seeing him come back. Do you know why?"

Harry averted his eyes from the close proximity between the two, but Draco saw the imperceptible shake of his head. 

"They're all here because they believe in you, Harry." Draco said insistently, "The only reason anyone is in this damn _hovel_ of a house is because they believe in what you said. They trust you and your word. Dumbledore, the Weasley's, all of them. You're not particularly going to get that kind of reception anywhere else."

At Harry's quirked head in confusion, Draco explained, "The newspapers talk about you. Not good things. They don't believe you or Dumbledore and are rapidly trying to denounce him to the public."

"I read the paper." Harry bit out. "I didn't see anything."

"Not the covers." Draco said. "Inside. Gossip sections. Politics. Wherever they can. After Dumbledore's speech, talk of Voldemort coming back spiked panic. The papers are trying to make you look even more insane and now they're trying to do the same to Dumbledore, calling him senile and all of it a hoax. It's probably the Ministry's doing, trying to downplay his comeback."

"I..Oh."

"I know. So as I said earlier, tell me where else you're going to find good people like this that will believe you. People that trust you and will not only stand by but will fight for you. Do you think the Weasley's take it lightly, being involved this time around when their family is almost doubled in size?"

Harry shook his head, now bowed slightly. His breathing was coming in more evenly than from earlier, and the room's sharp atmosphere of uncontrolled magic was gone. Draco hadn't even realised it was there until it left.

"They're all here on your word, Harry. Don't you _dare_ assume no one in this house gives a damn about you, because they do. You were in that house on Dumbledore's orders, so neither me nor your friends are going to answer for that. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, looking away from Draco.

"Are you going to apologise to Granger?"

"Of course I will." Harry said surely. "Ron, too."

"Right." Draco tried to hide his scowl at the Weasel's name. "When did you get here?"

"Today. Just before you arrived."

"Mm. Now what's this about a Dementor?"

Harry grimaced and turned his body away to stare at the window, so Draco was left staring at his back. "I got attacked by one."

"At your muggle's house?" Draco gasped.

"Yeah. Last night- this morning. I fought it off, but I had to use my wand. My uncle kicked me out, so I left, and I got an Owl saying I was expelled from Hogwarts. My neighbour found me eventually - she knows about me. She knew the whole time. She's a squib. Apparently some guy who was meant to be watching me left." Draco saw his shoulder's hunching and his hands clenching beside him in anger. "They had people _watching_ me."

"What else." Draco coaxed, his voice soft in hopes it wouldn't set Harry off.

"She called the Order, and they brought me here." He could hear Harry speaking through gritted teeth. "That's all it took. They had eyes on me the whole time-"

"Harry." Draco said warningly. Harry's head bowed and Draco heard him sigh. 

"I don't know why I couldn't be involved. To some extent, I could have _known_."

"I know." Draco walked forward, putting a hand on Harry's stiff shoulder. "I don't know why either. I wouldn't be pleased about it if it were me."

To Draco surprise, Harry chuckled lowly, "I'm much less than pleased."

The corners of Draco's mouth twitched, and he tightened his squeeze on Harry shoulder for a moment. "Evidently."

Harry turned around to face him, dropping Draco's hand back to his side and his eyes suddenly alight with curiosity as he looked up at Draco.

Draco quirked his head, "Yes?"

"You're taller than me now." Harry remarked.

Draco snorted, turning away for a moment then back, "You weren't that much of a giant before this, you know."

It's Harry's turn to snort at that, a small beginning of a smile at the corner of his lips. "Wanker."

Draco took the time to look down at the rest of Harry, and barely managed to hide the change in his expression. He hadn't realised it before because of Harry's hideous oversized clothing, but Harry looked skinnier than when he'd left for the summer. It was a significant amount than normal in Draco's opinion, and his mind started on the dark trail of thought of what exactly Harry's relatives tolerated in their dislike of him. He shook off the thought for the time being, not wanting to address it with Harry just yet.

"Are you…better now?" Draco asked tentatively. "Not better, necessarily, but just not…yelling?"

Harry sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and displacing his glasses in the process. "I…yeah, I think. I'm done yelling."

Draco nodded and started to turn away. Before he could, however, he felt a tug on his sleeve.

"I…" Harry said, gripping his sleeve and head turned away. "I'm sorry for, er, you know. Shouting at you."

Draco swallowed heavily and looked away. " 'S fine." He muttered. "Now you'd better go apologise to Granger."

"And Ron." Harry sighed, letting go of his sleeve and Draco let go of his wrist. He brushed past Draco to the door, and Draco waved his wand to dispel the silencing charm over the room behind his back.

When the door was opened, the sound of a loud crack filled the air. 

"ARGH!" A voice squealed that could have only been Ronald's. "STOP THAT!"

Stepping in to the room beside Harry, Draco saw two more ginger heads than normal. Not only that, but they were identical.

"Ah, Harry!" One of them said.

"We thought we heard your dulcet tones." The other said.

"Hullo George, Fred." Harry said dully. The two snickered about something obviously no one else was privy to. One of them - George, Draco presumed - finally landed their eyes on Draco, and nudged his twin.

"Well, well. Didn't see this coming." He said with a wry grin. Within a moment, the two popped out of sight and reappeared next to Draco, inciting an embarrassing yelp from him.

"Christ." Harry muttered grumpily. "Got your Apparition licenses, then?"

"Haven't been able to walk more than five meters since." Ron said exasperatedly behind the twins.

"Time is Galleons, little brother." The other - Fred - said, holding a very long length of flesh coloured string. "Anyways, Harry, Malfoy, you've been summoned to lunch. The meeting's over now and dear Harry here was interfering with reception the whole time."

"Reception?" Draco asked, peering wearily at the string. 

"Extendable Ears." Fred said proudly. 

"Be careful," Ron said, staring at the ear, "If mum sees one of them again…"

"It's worth the risk. Major meeting they're having down there. Must be why Malfoy's here."

"You're taking my being here quite well." Draco remarked with a raised eyebrow. 

"Mum made us swear to be nice and all that." George said, " 'sides, we heard about the Tournament. Mostly everyone was told that you'd be here and why."

" 'S why Snape's here too." Fred said with a scowl.

"Snape?" Ron cried. "Oh, bollocks-"

The door opened a long mane of red hair appeared. "Watch out if Mum hears you say that" Said whom Draco assumed was the last Weasley, Ginevra. Draco shivered when he thought about what his father had done to her. "Oh, hello Harry!" She said, before her eyes landed on Draco. "Malfoy, as well." She said with a polite nod. Draco nodded back, reminding himself to talk to her later. Ginevra looked back at the twins, "The Ears are a no-go."

"What?" George cried.

"Mum's gone and cast an Imperturbable Charm on the kitchen door."

"Ah, shi-"

"Who else is here?" Harry asked them beside Draco.

"Mostly everyone, mate." Said Fred. "Ones' I saw going in were just Snape, Tonks and Dumbledore. Then there's our lot."

"Charlie's here, too?"

"No, but Bill is. Charlie's still in Romania - Dumbledore wants as many foreign wizards as possible. Bill works in an office at the Ministry now - says' he misses the tombs but, " He smirks, "he's got _compensation_."

"What d'you mean?"

Fred leaned in conspiringly, "Remember Fleur Delacour? She moved to work in the Ministry to _eemprove 'er Eenglish_ , and well, Bill's been giving her a few…"

"Private lessons." Snickered George next to him.

"So he has to work with Percy, then?" 

Draco watched the shift in everyone's faces except Harry's. He assumed Percy was just another one of the Weasley siblings. He was sure he's heard that name amongst the Prefects from his First Year.

All the Weasley's and Hermione exchanged darkly significant looks.

"Best not to mention Percy in front of Mum and Dad." Ronald said tensely to Harry.

"Why not?"

"Dad and Percy rowed." Ronald said, "Even at the mention, Dad breaks whatever's he's holding and Mum starts crying."

"What happened?" Harry asked, concerned.

"It all started after last term-"

"BOYS!" Mrs. Weasley bellowed from one floor down. "LUNCH!"

"Merlin, she rattles the floor boards." George muttered. 

"Explain everything later, Harry - or rather Ron will. See you later lads!" Fred only gave a smirk and a glance a his twin before Disapparating with a loud crack.

"OH! YOU TWO!" Mrs. Weasley cried a moment later.

"Better get down there." Ronald said regretfully. Granger and Ginevra fell in to step as Ronald lead the way out the door, Draco still sticking next to Harry's side at the far end.

"I feel like," Draco murmured to him on the way down the stairs, "I'm a very nice piece of meat amongst a pack of hungry wolves."

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched. "Very descriptive." He murmured back.

"I live to serve."

Harry snorted lightly. "Funny."

"Erm…By the way." Draco started, reaching the last few steps with Harry and halting him as the others went inside the kitchen. "Mrs. Weasley…She looked mad at me earlier. I'm not sure what I did."

"Oh." Harry said, thinking for a moment. "Was she like…looking at you weird up and down and stuff?"

"Uh, yeah, actually."

Harry smiled privately, looking off somewhere in deep thought about something. He looked back at Draco after a moment, "That's her 'this kid needs to eat more' face. You're on her shitlist now." And with that, he walked to the kitchen door leaving Draco where he was standing.

Draco hesitated for a moment, letting the words sink in, before springing to action and following hurriedly after Harry. "Oi! You better wait, Potter. I'm not sitting next to Weasley."

They entered the kitchen together, before Harry exclaimed, "Sirius!" And ran and jumped in to the man's arms. Sirius wrapped his arms around Harry, and Draco stood awkwardly for a few moments. He looked away to scan the room.

"Where's…"

"Severus left a few minutes ago. Said he'd be back soon." Sirius said to him, letting go of Harry with a ruffle of his hair. Harry was beaming at the man, and the tension in Draco's body melted away slightly at the sight. 

Around the table were the Weasley's, all already seated and chatting loudly amongst each other. Granger was seated between Ginevra and Ronald, while Ginevra was busy giggling with another woman whom seemed to be changing the shape of her nose. He wondered what type of spells she was using to change it so easily.

Draco's eyes moved further, and he spotted the older Weasleys, Arthur, Bill and Molly. His gaze shifted to a person of a completely different contrast to the ginger family and he stilled. 

It was like his entire body had ice water dunked over it. He could feel the tremors starting in his legs, and his hand twitched over the wand holster on his other arm. 

The man was dressed in large, blue shabby robes. His cane was propped up on the table next to where he was sat, and his Mad Eye whirled around lazily in his thick goggles. 

"Draco." A hand placed itself on his shoulders, and he stiffened at the touch. He couldn't bring himself to move away even if he wanted to. 

"Draco." The voice, Harry's, murmured low in his ear. "It's not him. It's the real one."

"I…" Draco started, his mouth dry. The man caught his gaze and raised an eyebrow, Eye beginning to spin faster. 

"I forgot to tell you." Harry's grip on his shoulder tightened. "I'm sorry. "

"Y…You sure?" Memories of unending pain flashed through his mind. Skin-burning, blood-boiling pain.

"I'm sure, Draco. I promise. He's real. It's just Moody. The Auror."

Draco turned his head to Harry slowly, feeling the slight shake in his head as he did so. Harry was looking at him surely, his hand on his shoulder certain. Draco looked back at the man and let out a deep breath.

"I…I don't want to sit near him." He whispered. The hand on his shoulder squeezed and let go.

"Okay. That's fine. We can sit next to Sirius. Come on.

Harry led him to the other end of the table where Sirius was sat with an empty chair next to him. Harry sat on the other side and Draco sat across him. There was a selection of food laid out on the table, and Draco's mouth watered despite the nausea he'd felt just moments prior.

"Draco, darling." Mrs. Weasley came up behind him and started shoveling copious amounts of food on to his plate. "Have as much as you want, dear. You're looking right peaky."

Draco glared at Harry as the boy smirked at him, before it disappeared when Mrs. Weasley started spooning food on to his own plate. It was Draco's turn to smirk then, watching Harry's weak protests against the woman.

"Where's Moony?" Harry said as he stuffed his mouth with food once they'd begun to eat, which had Draco wincing at his lack of table manners.

"Be here soon." Sirius replied, taking a sip of something that Draco guessed wasn't simple Pumpkin juice.

Draco ignored them and continued to focus on his food, which was to put it simply, delicious. He managed to get through the entire plate, before he heard the chilling words, "Oh, Draco dear. Do have some more."

Draco choked on his juice and Harry snorted in to his.

"Mrs. Weasley…I really-" But the woman was already adding more to his plate. Draco glared at Harry again, before saying sweetly, "You finished, Harry?"

The boy's eyes widened in panic before Mrs. Weasley honed in on him like a vulture. 

"Malfoy." A voice called out. Draco turned quickly to see one of the older Weasley children beckoning him from the other end of the table. He quickly took one last bite and gratefully slid out of his seat with a regretful look at Mrs. Weasley. Making his way to the man, Draco was interested to see a few piercings and what he assumed was an animal tooth through his earlobe. He didn't have much time to think about it, however, because in the corner of his eye he could see he was also approaching where Moody sat, and his skin immediately prickled on the side of his body that faced the man. 

"Hi." The Weasley said once he'd reached him. He was still sat in his chair and was leaning languorously with his arm draped over the back. His head was tilted back as he faced Draco without turning his entire body and he held out a hand to shake. "Name's Bill."

Draco swallowed heavily, taking Bill's hand. "Draco."

Bill chuckled, "No need to look like you've seen a Basilisk, Draco. I just needed to let you know you were due for a meeting after lunch. Dumbledore's just popped out, but when he's back with Snape we’ll start."

"Ah, alright." Draco said, Moody still his focus in his peripheral vision, "Thank you."

"No problem." Bill narrowed his eyes at him as if amused, "Are you alright?"

"Er -yeah. I'm fine. Just…" Draco roved his eyes around the room in explanation. 

Bill laughed, and Draco noticed there were rings adorning almost every finger on his hands. He quickly shot his eyes back up to Bill's face before he noticed him staring, but something in the man's eyes said that he'd already seen.

"Not used to lots like ours, isn't it?" Bill said with a rueful smile.

Draco looked away, feeling himself flush, "Not exactly…No."

He felt Bill reach and pat him on the back twice, but it was so hard it almost knocked Draco completely over, just managing to right himself and restrain a cough. "You'll be alright, Mal - Sorry. Draco. Anyone here gives you trouble, come to me, alright?"

Draco stilled, cocking his head to the side. "I…But why?" 

Bill's eyebrows raised, leaning forwards to sit properly in his seat and turn to Draco completely. "I…" He stopped and looked around, causing Draco to as well. Around the table, the Weasley's were chatting boisterously. Ronald was sat arguing with the twins about something as they jeered at him, Granger silently watching at his side with a warm smile. Ginevra had taken Draco's now unoccupied seat, talking to Harry about something that required a lot of hand gestures and visuals. From the looks of it, Draco guessed it was Quidditch. Sirius was busy speaking to the pink haired woman who was changing the shape of her nose earlier and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were bickering amongst themselves. In the corner of his eye, Draco could see Moody sat silently, the only movement the swirling of his Mad Eye.

He looked back at Bill to already see him looking at him. 

"M- Draco." Bill started hesitantly, as if trying to find the right way to phrase what he was saying. He paused and gestured for Draco to take the seat beside him, resuming once he'd done so. "I was…skeptical at first. About you, that is."

Draco nodded knowingly, tensing up despite himself.

"Our families have always rivaled, you see. Ron used to come home and tell us the worst things…"

Draco looked away, feeling the uncomfortable heat of shame coiling in his stomach. "I'm so-"

"No, wait." Bill cut him off. "I didn't - I'm not saying this to make you apologise. I'm not looking for that. Even telling by your reaction, I know you recognise where you went wrong. What I'm trying to get at here is I - hell, all of us are here fully well knowing what you were like few years prior. Ron told us enough, I'm sure you can imagine." Bill grinned humorously, but Draco didn't feel up to returning it. "So once us and the rest of the Order heard from Dumbledore that you would be joining, good half thought it was a joke. The other were…less receptive, if you can imagine."

Draco nodded, looking down at his lap instead of Bill's face.

"Dumbledore never really specified what made it so, but he did say that he explicitly trusted you, and at some point after Harry was captured and escaped on the night of the final task, you'd saved his life."

Draco's mind went back to when he'd thrown himself in front of Harry before fake-Moody could fire a spell, and wondered why people equated It with something so big as actually saving his life.

"Still, I admit not even I believed him. I was sure it was some sort of a trick. You're the last person I could possibly have believed of saving Harry's life, and one of the first to be on the other side of the wand. Not that you were the most evil…Merlin. What I'm trying to say is no one expected it. Most of us were sure you were trying to pull something for your father."

Draco gulped, his mouth dry.

"It wasn't until Mum heard us saying it that we found out it was true. She even went as far as threatening to wring our necks if we said or did anything bad to you, she believed in you that much."

Draco looked up.

"She was adamant that none of it was fake. Hell, don't tell Ron I told you, but even _he_ said you could be trusted. Said you and Harry had patched things up over the year. I couldn't believe it, but if Ron was bloody saying you were alright, then it had to be true. Once it'd sunk in that you must have really saved Harry's life, everyone sort of accepted it. Seeing you now, even, it just makes me surer."

"Surer of what?" 

"That you're not so bad." Bill smiled. "And you're not the same bloke that hexed slugs to come out my brothers mouth in Second Year."

Draco smiled despite himself at the memory, quickly glancing at Bill in case he'd offended him. Luckily when he looked up, there was a humorous glitter in the man's eyes. Draco looked back down at his lap, his smile fading with another deep gulp.

"But…Your family…What my father did to Ginevra-"

"Has nothing to do with you." Bill said firmly. "You needn't feel so responsible for something I assume you weren't even aware of."

"I wasn't."

"Exactly. You're not him, and not responsible for what he does. You're making your own man. You being here proves that, don't you think?"

Draco nodded, surprising himself. 

"So as I said earlier, anyone gives you grief about him or anything else, I'll set them straight, alright?"

"Yes Si- Yes. Thank you." Draco stuttered. "I won't…I won't be like him. I've stopped being like that. It isn't me."

Bill smiled. "That's all I could ask for, really. If I could ask you for one thing, however, Draco." Bill leaned in and Draco did too. "Keep looking after Harry, alright? We're all a bit worried about him lately. Another pair of eyes could be all the better."

Draco leaned back, nodding firmly. "I will, but I don't think he needs more people to watch him more than to just listen to what he was to say when he needs to say it. But still, I'll do my best."

Bill looked at him for a moment, shocked, before saying softly, "You're good for him, Draco. Maybe Ron will see that side of you someday, too."

At Draco's grimace, Bill laughed and clapped him on the back. "Off you go, then. I won't keep you. When Dumbledore gets here, I'll come get you."

"Thank you." Draco said politely, getting up with his head swirling for the surrealness of it all. He went back to his seat, Ginevra stepping away once he'd returned with another polite smile.

"All good?" Harry asked, looking far more cheerful and like himself than earlier.

"Yeah. Just Bill. I have a meeting later."

Harry frowned, "What about me?"

Draco froze, "Erm, no I don't think you're..." He said slowly. "I'm sure it's nothing…"

"Right." Harry said, obviously unhappy. 

"I…I mean, it's not like I can't just tell you whatever it is they tell me. Afterwards, that is." Draco said quickly. He nudged Harry playfully, "It is what we agreed to, and all."

Harry thought about it for a moment, his frown lessening slightly. "Yeah, I guess. Everything?"

"Everything." Draco promised. "I swear on the Vow."

Harry scoffed, "The Vow has nothing to do with matters between me and the Order."

"No, but I did promise to share anything I know with you that one time by the Lake. When we first met after the Ball?"

"Like I can remember that far." Harry waved him off, but Draco could tell he knew what he was talking about. "Go have your shoddy meeting, then." He said, but his approving tone made Draco relax.

Draco sighed at that, slumping back in his chair, "It's going to be long, I just know it. Any meeting with Snape is bound to be hours long."

Harry snorted beside him, "Maybe I should be glad I'm not going, then."

"Maybe." Draco mumbled, closing his eyes and facing the ceiling his with head resting on the back of the chair. 

"Draco." Bill's voice called out behind him from the hallway. "It's time."

Draco got up, seeing Harry staring longingly at the hallway. Draco reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'll be back." He said.

"And I'll be here." Harry sighed sorrowfully. Draco squeezed his shoulder once, then turned to face the meeting. Bill was waiting for him, and Draco braced himself with a deep breath.

It was time to formally meet the Order of the Phoenix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, happy 100K words ! this is like, bigger than your average novel length, which is weird. 
> 
> Thank you for all your sweet comments! I can't believe people take the time to just be nice. It's so weird. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading.


	31. Good

After Draco had disappeared in to a different room of the ground floor of Grimmauld Place along with Dumbledore, the three eldest Weasley's and Snape, Harry drowned himself in some of Mrs. Weasley's homemade Treacle Tart. 

As the room had emptied, Ron, Hermione and the other Weasley children made their way to Harry's side of the table as the adults siphoned out the room to go about their business. Harry assumed that since the major general meeting was over, everyone was done for the day.

"So, mate." Ron said, sidling up to him. Hermione followed and sat on his other side, while the twins and Ginny sat on the other side. 

"Hey." Harry mumbled, face almost completely down in his tart. He was relieved he didn’t feel the same anger he did before at his friends. "Erm, what's up?"

Ron, bless him, acted as if nothing was amiss and instantly uncoiled some of the tension in the air. He blew out a long breath, slumping down in his seat and saying, "Bloody nothing - and I meant that, Harry. Mum's been driving us mad, trying to get us to clean parts of the house to keep us busy."

"We really haven't been involved, Harry." Hermione said beside him. 

Harry glanced at the three other Weasley's who were engrossed in their own heated debate, so Harry looked back between his friends and sighed. "I know. I'm really sorry, guys." He muttered, head bowed. "I shouldn’t have had a go at you."

"Damn righ- Argh!" Ron started, before Hermione tactfully slapped the back of his head by reaching across behind Harry.

"It's quite alright, Harry." She said calmly, retracting her arm gently. "I can understand how it might have been frustrating for you."

"Yeah." Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I talked about it with…"

"Surprised you didn't take a swing at him." Ron interrupted bluntly. Harry snorted, looking sidelong at his best friend.

"Oh, I thought about it. Something about his face sometimes still makes me want to…" He chuckled at the thought, to which Ron laughed as well. Within a second, they were both giggling to each other and Hermione was sighing.

"Boys." She muttered. "Where is Draco, by the way?"

Harry blew out a huff, "In a meeting." And Ron mirrored him.

"Would've thought that since he's a Malfoy he'd be less involved, y'know what I mean?" Ron sighed.

"I guess it's the opposite." Hermione said. "He could potentially be very useful."

"He's said before he wants to spy for m- our side." said Harry, "Go against his father and all that."

"But - I know he risked his life for you and stuff…" Ron said hesitantly, "But how do we really know he won't just get scared and bugger off to his dad about the Order at any given time?" 

"I…" Harry started, then looked around. The twins and Ginny her busy talking, but he glanced at Hermione and signaled to the door for them to leave. Hermione understood immediately, her eyebrows shooting up and getting out of her chair. When Ron begun to protest in confusion as they filed out, she pinched him on the arm and he let out a yelp.

The three made their way outside unnoticed by the other Weasley's, and they entered a room across the one Draco and the Order had gone in to. Walking in, it seemed to have been some sort of parlor at some point in time, but was now abandoned and layered with grime. There were faded sofa's in the middle of the room, a vaguely patterned rug on the floor that may have once been black, and on top of it a deep wooden coffee table. What was most noticeable was what could obviously be a Grand Piano covered in a dusty tarp to one side of the room. It looked as if it hadn't been touched in years, and the tarp was almost completely grey under a layer of dust.

Harry saw Hermione scrunch her face up at the sight, choosing a seat at a nearby chair which looked considerably less grimy than the sofas. Ron, however, just threw himself down on top of one of them, wheezing and coughing as dust was sent flying in to the air.

"Tch." Hermione tutted at him, and Harry drew another chair to sit around the coffee table with them.

"The door?" Ron reminded him, as it was still left wide open to the hallway.

"Leave it." Harry said, his nose crinkling at the smell of old and grime invading his senses and leaving his stomach unsettled for some reason. "This place needs some air."

"Why leave the kitchen?" Hermione asked, folding her legs and clasping her hands around them.

"Erm," Harry started, "I don't want the others to hear…and I wasn't sure how you would…"

"Oh God." Hermione whispered immediately, horrified. "Why? What did you and Draco do?"

"Uh - What?" Harry asked incredulously at seeing her expression, "What do you think we did?"

"Yeah? What did they do?" Ron said in the same tone.

"Well…Obviously something…not good!" Hermione stammered. "What was it?"

"I…We…" Harry stuttered, "Don't get mad." He said, feeling like he was about to make a very bad mistake. 

"Say it!" Both Ron and Hermione yelled in unison, looking on edge from the mystery Harry was alluding to.

"You know what…" Harry said, "Maybe it's not so imp-"

" _Harry._ " Hermione warned. 

"I- We - I mean Draco and I - We swore an Unbreakable Vow." Harry said quickly, and the room went very quiet. "Or rather, he did."

Ron and Hermione didn't move, both of their mouths actually agape and the room so quiet that Harry could hear the faint murmurings of the meeting in the next room.

"I don't believe you." Ron said, a hysterical laugh bursting out of him. "Good one, Harry!"

"Harry…" Hermione said numbly, still staring at him in shock.

"My best mate wouldn't really-"

"Ron." Hermione said dully.

"Even _I've_ almost made that mistake! If I haven't, then Harry obviously-"

"Ron, he's not lying." Hermione said, and the boy paused. Silence perturbed the room again.

"Yeah." Harry looked away. "Not lying."

"Huh?" Ron said eloquently, eyes wide.

"Yeah." Harry said again apologetically. 

"When." Hermione said.

"Erm, day after the task."

"Which one."

"The final one." Harry swallowed. "How come you know what it is-"

"Of course I know what it is!" Hermione erupted, throwing her arms in to the air. "It's only one of the most popular, lethal and powerful magical bonds there is! It's borderline dark magic!"

"Harry." Ron said seriously, "You two actually did it? Hands together, bonder and everything?"

"Yeah!" Harry said indignantly, then shrunk away when he saw Hermione's lips tighten. "It was binding. I could tell."

"Who was your bonder?" She asked.

Harry winced. "Erm, Sirius." 

"Bloody hell." Ron slumped back. 

"What was he thinking?" Hermione cried. "It's illegal for minors to swear any sort of magical bond! It's like…child marriage!"

Harry panicked. "What? Between childre- doesn't matter." He shook himself of the thought. "I don't think the law is much of a hinderance to him anymore, Hermione."

"Regardless!" She hissed. "What were the clauses?" She asked insistently. Harry obediently repeated the clauses he had given Draco at the time of the Vow, including the extra fourth one he had added in last minute. Hermione listened with iron focus, while Ron stared on in shellshock.

"He swore them?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"It was all his idea." Harry said guiltily, "I swear."

Hermione only glared, seething and rubbing her face exasperatedly. "What was he _thinking_."

"I almost swore one when I was a kid." Ron finally spoke, eyes spaced out and looking at the ground. "George and Fred thought it'd be funny to make me, but luckily Dad found us before we could do it. I'd never seen him so angry."

"I can sympathise." Harry said, glancing quickly at Hermione warily. "But look, it's not that bad, right? He was willing, and it solves the issue of him snitching on all of this."

"But the _death_ part, Harry!"

"He was fully aware of it!" Harry said defensively, "He told me all of it himself beforehand. Believe me, I tried to refuse, but it was more of a positive for him than anything else." 

Hermione, to Harry's surprise, swore colourfully and crossed her arms over her chest. Harry let out a huff and leant back in his chair. 

"It's done now, Hermione." Harry said quietly. "There's no point…" He gestured vaguely with his hands, "Telling me it was wrong." 

"But mate," Ron spoke, "Of all the things…This one is…" 

"I…" Harry sighed, "I know. But he knows what he's doing. He knows what he wants." 

"I'm just worried it may come back to bite either of you." Hermione said, her voice hoarse as if she might begin crying, but Harry could see her eyes were dry. "There is never getting around these things." 

"I…" Harry looked up at the ceiling, letting his head rest on the back of the chair. "I think it was the right decision. I even said it to him back when we did it. For some reason, I don't regret it." 

"Now, you don't." Hermione scoffed rudely, but looked away with a shake of her head with unwilling acceptance. 

"Merlin." Ron muttered beside her, running his hands through his ginger hair with a sigh. 

"I'm sorry." Harry added. 

Hermione just sighed, rubbing her face again. "Don't be. I just wish you…talked about it with us first." 

Yeah." Ron said resignedly, "We just…We're always here for you, you know? If you need us?" 

Harry looked at his friends, feeling a warmth in his chest. "Of course. I couldn't- Wouldn't be here without you guys. I'm sorry I'm such trouble." 

Ron tutted, waving a hand away, "Bugger that. You're our trouble." And Hermione smiled slightly, still looking out at one of the windows of the room. Harry smiled, looking down at his hands. 

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, startling the two boys. "What was this about a court hearing I heard about from Molly?" 

"Court hearing?" Harry asked puzzledly. "For me?" 

Hermione nodded, and he thought for a moment. 

"Oh." It dawned on him, causing a tightening in his chest from anxiety. "I erm…" 

He then proceeded to explain how he had been forced to cast magic against a Dementor attack, and how it resulted in his expulsion from Hogwarts, which had Hermione in near tears. 

"But what on earth was a Dementor doing in Privet Drive?" She cried. 

"I know." Harry grumbled. 

"But at least he's getting a hearing, right?" Ron said, "Just explain what happened to them, Harry. They can't expel you for defending yourself! Hey, we'll even get Dad to help you somehow." 

"Yeah." Harry said, "Thanks, mate. Hopefully they let me go back to Hogwarts. What do you think'll happen if they don't?" 

"Oh, none of that." Hermione waved the idea off angrily. "They have to. It wasn't your bloody fault."

Just then, a raised voice could be heard from the other side of the door across. It was the same door where the current Order meeting was also happening behind. The voice was steadily growing in volume, harsh tones reaching the trio's ears. 

"Merlin, what's that about." Muttered Ron. 

The voice raised some more as if coming closer to them, and the door swung open on it's hinges loudly. In sight was now Draco, one hand on the door handle while his body was still turned to the other gaping occupants of the room. 

"And the next time you expect me to do what you say like some sort of _pet_ ," He shouted at the room full of adults, "You can expect none of my cooperation about anything important for a very long time!" 

" _Draco-_ " A voice hissed, the drone only being able to belong to Snape. 

"No! He's alive too, you know! I won't have you discussing him like he's just a helpless baby! It may have worked when you first got your grubby hands on him, Dumbledore, but look where that ended him up!" 

"We can just discuss this-" 

"I'm not discussing _anything_. Put him in your meetings where it concerns him, or I'll make sure everything that comes out of my mouth for this Order is a damn Celestina Warbeck number! Tch! And you call yourself adults?" 

And with that, Draco slammed the door behind him, panting from the exertion of yelling. He stared at the ground for a few moments as the trio watched in silence, then his eyes flicked up and widened in surprise. 

"Oh, Harry." He said. 

"Hi." Harry returned. "Erm…Celestina Warbeck?" 

Draco scoffed sarcastically, making his way in to the room and closing the door. He pulled a chair next to Harry, brushing the dust of the seat a few times before throwing himself down with a huff. 

"Make yourself at home." Ron muttered, earning a glare from Hermione. 

Draco finally took in his surroundings, crinkling his nose like there was a bad smell. "Merlin, where are we?" He whispered. 

"What happened?" Harry asked, ignoring him. 

Draco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and slumping back in his chair undignifiedly. "Gosh, it was more a nightmare than I thought." 

"Boring?" Harry asked. 

"For the most part. Most of it was reports and things like that. Is this person here, is that object there. Nothing to do with me." 

"Then?" Prompted Hermione. 

"Then they asked me questions about me, mostly. Things I expected, really. What I'd been doing over the summer, what my father's been doing, anything suspicious and anything I've learned." 

"And you told them? Everything?" Harry asked. 

"Had to, Harry." Draco admitted with a knowing look. 

"Because of the _Unbreakable Vow_ you swore together?" Hermione raised an eyebrow coldly, and Harry saw Draco stiffen in the corner of his eye. 

" _Oh for God's sake_." Harry muttered under his breath. 

"Harry?" Draco asked quietly through the side of his mouth. 

"Had to, Draco." Harry admitted apologetically. 

"Of all the things, Malfoy?" Hermione exclaimed. "Of all the bloody things?" 

"Hermione, we went over this." Harry sighed deeply. 

"No! I want to know what he was thinking!" 

"Look." Draco said calmly, "It's for me, alright? I don't know why you-"

"You of all people should know the risks of that Vow." Ron said loudly beside Hermione. 

"And I do! I don't bloody see the problem here." Draco crossed his arms, and Harry sat back as he watched hell break loose. 

"So you spring this kind of thing on Harry, who hadn't any idea what it meant-" 

"Hey." Harry interjected, "I knew what I was bloody-" 

"He was well bloody informed about it." Draco shot back, "Why is it you two think you have any control over this? " 

"Because he's our friend!" 

"So you needn't worry about anything I do, then!" 

"Enough!" Harry shouted. "Stop acting like I'm not here!" 

"That's exactly the kind of thing that made me leave that meeting." Draco said, his eyes glinting with anger as they were still trained on Hermione. "You need to stop acting like you're some sort of…failure sieve, for him, Granger. He made his decision - without you, for once - and what's done is done. What good will come out of making him feel bad about doing anything without your confirmation first?" 

"She's just trying to help-" Ron started. 

"Is shouting helpful? Is any of this helpful, at the moment? It was between Harry and I. End of story." 

"But what if it was a mistake?" Hermione stated lowly. 

"Then it was a mistake." Draco said firmly. "We move on and work around it. Forget about the Vow for just a moment and just think about how it'll help. I didn't do this for no reason or dumb little joke. It _will_ help. Me and you lot, too, and you don't even have to lift a finger." 

"Don't I get a say in this?" Harry said angrily, silently fuming as he watched the exchange. 

"I'm sorry, Harry." Draco said, finally looking at him, "I just need to say to them what you won't." 

"Since when do you get to say _anything_ for Harry?" Ron growled, and Harry's heart began to race as he realised how close everyone in this room was to being at each other's throats. He had always feared that Draco and his friends wouldn't mix well, but he never realised how much he hoped it would happen anyway. "Just last year you were close to killing him!" 

"I already apologised for it." Draco said through gritted teeth, "We both already sorted out what I did to him in the past." 

"Doesn't mean the rest of us are so easy to sway, then." Ron shot back. "You did plenty bad stuff, not just to Harry." 

"I know." Draco said, his voice flat and void of emotion. 

"So don't claim you know anything about him!" Ron said, "He's _our_ friend. _You_ were the one that bullied all of us for years. _You_ were the one's father that got Hermione petrified-" 

"-Ron." Harry said warningly. 

"And _you_ were the one that put shit on my family. For years, you were a right git about us. For years, you called us blood-traitors, and called Hermione a mudblood! You hated us, and you hated Harry the most!" 

Draco didn't move, keeping almost completely still as Ron went at him. 

"So don't expect to come in here and act like you're one of us, because you're _not_." Ron spat. "I was able to tolerate you and Harry being friends because it wasn't my problem, but now you're here, and you want to think you can be good, but you were _never_ good, Malfoy. You may be trustworthy, but you're not _good_ , so excuse me if I'm still right confused when you think you can speak for Harry about something when you haven't ever even spoken a good thing in your life." 

"Stop it!" Harry shouted, shooting out of his chair. "Ron-" 

"No, Harry." Ron cut him off, "That's all I had to say. I'm leaving." 

"Ron-" Hermione reached out a hand, but he shook his head at her and left the room. "I'll go talk to him-" She started to get out of her chair before Harry raised an arm to stop her. 

"It's fine. I'll go." He said. He was going to make sure it wasn't the Triwizard Tournament all over again. He couldn't bear to be fighting with Ron like that all over again. He turned quickly, "Draco-" 

"Don't say anything." Draco said, eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. "He was right. All of it." 

"Look, Draco-" Harry started, sitting back down to face him. 

"No. I'm done for the day." He said, his voice just slightly shaky. "Where will I be staying for the next few nights?" He asked curtly. Harry's heart sunk, but he decided to leave it for now since Draco seemed inconsolable. 

"Upstairs in the room at the far end." Hermione said. 

"Right." Draco stood up, still not making eye contact with either and turning to the door. "Thank you. Good night." 

Harry looked out the window to see the sun had already gone down and the room had been doused in a cold, white flame that managed to light up the entire room. He hadn't even realised how much time had passed. It still, however, seemed too early to go to sleep based on what his watch was telling him. 

Draco left, and the room was submerged in a thick silence. Harry broke it by sighing loudly and taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. 

"Went well." He muttered to himself. 

"I'm sorry, Harry." Hermione whispered after a moment. "Was I really being…overbearing?" 

"I…" Harry blew out a breath, thinking. "Kind of, yeah." He admitted apologetically. "It's like I can't do anything on my own." 

"Oh." Hermione said, and Harry looked up to see tears rolling down her face. His heart panged and he immediately got up to kneel in front of her, looking up in to her shining brown eyes. 

"Hey." He said softly. "It's alright. Don't cry." 

She let out a choked sob and threw her arms around him. Harry immediately responded, reaching around her back as he was pressed in to her shoulder. Her knees were digging in to his chest, but he couldn't care at the moment. 

Hermione sobbed in to his shoulder, her bushy hair sticking in to his face. 

"It must have been _awful_." He heard her cry in to his shoulder. It confused him at first, before he realised she probably wasn't just talking about what had happened moments prior. 

He said nothing, keeping his eyes trained on the wall behind her as she cried. 

"I'm fine." He murmured in to her hair. "Honest." 

"I…just…worry!" She sobbed. "What if…something like that happens again?" 

"It won't." Was the only thing he could say, shutting his eyes tightly. "I have you, and Ron, and now Draco too." 

"Do you think…still…Draco hates us?" She choked out, making Harry squeeze her tighter. 

"I…" He thought for a moment. "I don't know. But it doesn't matter if he does or not. He won't act like he used to." 

"How do you trust him so much?" She pulled back, looking him over and her cheeks stained with tears. "I've tried to understand all this time, but how can you put so much faith in him? After all he's done?" 

"I…I don't know, Hermione." He sat back on his haunches, withdrawing his arms and letting them hand at his sides. He looked down, focusing on the faded fabric of his jeans. "I could never have imagined we would get along this well. I never imagined that he was…like this. After the Yule Ball and that truce, it's like he didn't have to pretend anymore, so I actually saw _him_." 

"Pretend?" 

"Like…about himself. He wasn't being someone he wasn't." 

"And he was pretending all these years, then?" 

"Erm, no. Not exactly." Harry brought his palms up to look at them, wondering why Draco did it all the time and what it was he saw in them. "To a large extent, he really is Malfoy. He's mean, sadistic and for a while had the most awful prejudices about blood purity. That was all him. For a while, I also really did hate him. I hated how he thought he was better than everyone. That he hated them because of who they were without any sort of solid basis. I hated him with all my being so much that I thought he was the Heir of Slytherin and even capable of killing." 

"He almost killed you with the Dementors." She reminded.

"That was just him being an idiot." Harry smiled slightly. "But on that first night on Yule, he said it himself with the most honesty I've ever seen on a person: I want no one dead for it. He looked sick, Hermione, at the thought of his father almost being responsible for those petrifications in Second Year. Sick at the thought of those possible deaths, and it occurred to me that maybe he wasn't as evil as I thought he was. He looked like a kid, not some sort of big scary dark lord." 

They lapsed in to a thoughtful silence, before Harry spoke again. "After that I just… I don't know. It was him who put enough faith in me to tell me about his father that I began to be able to trust him as well." 

"Did you never think he would tell someone? That he'd betray you?" 

Harry shook his head. "Maybe I'm just stupid." He said. "But for some reason, I knew he wouldn't. He could have easily turned against me at any time, now that I think about it." 

"I guess it just proves how serious he is." She admitted quietly, "About all this." 

"Yeah." He thought of all the times he and Draco were down by the Lake together. Each time he found Draco there studying, or when he'd find him scribbling random lines on his parchment as Harry spoke, under the pretense that he too busy studying to even listen. He thought of Draco's veiled warnings about the tasks, the subtle helpings he gave when Harry had been frustrated out of his mind. 

"I don't understand a lot about him either, to be honest. I think what's important is that he's _trying_ to change, Hermione. I can see it in him, so that's why I don't doubt him." 

"What if he messes it up? Slips up when it matters most and makes a mistake? Being in the position that he is…" 

"No one can guarantee that he won't." Harry said firmly. "But like he said earlier, we move on and work around it. With the Vow, the likelihood is even less." 

"So that's why he did it, then?" She asked, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Do you think he fears he could mess things up?" 

"He was insistent on the Vow so that he wouldn't." Harry confirmed. "He's deathly scared of his father, I can tell. Said he'd rather be dead than be like what he is. I don't think he still knows how to trust himself around him." 

Hermione said nothing, and the silence around the house reigned. Harry glanced at his watch, seeing it was only seven o' clock. 

"Please…just be patient." Harry said, getting up and brushing his jeans off. "He's trying. I need Ron to know that, too. There's no use in all of us fighting right now." 

"Will you go talk to him?" 

Harry nodded, "I'll do it now. I'll talk to Draco tomorrow once he's calmed down." 

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, and he pat her back twice before leaving the room. He made his way past the door where Draco had met the Order earlier, which seemed to still be in use, so he tip toed just to be safe. 

Stopping outside of Ron's room upstairs, Harry took a deep breath before knocking twice. There was no answer, but after a moment he pushed the door open anyway. 

Inside, Ron was laying on his back in his bed with his arms crossed behind his head. When he saw Harry, his eyes narrowed and he and turned his back to him to face the wall. 

"Hey" Harry said softly. He closed the door and went to sit on the bed that was propped against the opposite wall to Ron's. Laying his elbows on his knees, Harry sighed. "What's up?" 

Ron scoffed, "Don't bother trying to get me to apologise to that git." 

"I wasn't going to." Harry said honestly. 

Ron turned his body around in surprise, "What? Really?" 

"I had a go at him too, when we first spoke. You're not in the wrong for saying what you wanted to. Not after what he's done in the past." 

Ron crossed his arms over his chest, still laying down facing Harry. "But?" He asked inquiringly. 

"But," Harry started, "You're in the wrong for saying some of those stuff as if he was still the same person. You can be mad about what he did, but please don't treat him like he can't change." Harry pleaded. "He really is trying, Ron." 

"Was he right, then?" 

"What?" Harry asked, confused at the sudden question. 

"Was the git right about what he said to Hermione. About her being controlling." 

Harry's body slumped, his head falling in to his hands with a sigh. "I…Yeah. He's right." 

Ron stared for a moment, before turning to lay on his back and look up at the ceiling. 

"I'm not asking for you guys to be… _mates_." Harry said with a short laugh, "Merlin, no. I just want you to not be at each other's necks in the very least." 

"He annoys me." Ron said bluntly, and Harry laughed again. "It was already a lot that you were friends, and I was able to trust who he was to a certain degree after I heard about the last task, but all of this is becoming a lot to handle from him." 

"Fine. Just don't kill each other, and don't shout. For Hermione's sake." 

"Fine." Ron grumbled. "I don't get it, but fine." 

"Thank you." Harry swung his legs on to the bed and mirrored Ron, staring up at the ceiling where the black wooden boards looked worrying to be underneath in terms of stability. His chest felt settled from resolving things with Ron, and he sighed contently, basking In the silence of the house. 

"Did he really tell Dumbledore he had grubby hands earlier?" Ron asked in a horrified whisper after a moment. 

Harry stayed silent, letting it sink in. 

"Oh my god, he did." He whispered back, equally horrified. "That dickhead." 


	32. Draco, the eggs!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hah! it's been less than two weeks and i'm updating, which is absurd for my shitty posting schedule.

Draco was busy rustling through his overnight bag, thoughts swirling after the events of the meeting and what had happened afterwards with Harry and his friends, when he felt a presence behind him at the open door. His first instinct would have been to assume it was Harry, but the tingling in his neck and difference in sound on the floorboards had him turning around quickly.

"Oh. Granger." He said, relaxing slightly. "Harry isn't here."

"I'm not here for Harry." Granger said calmly, stepping in to the room. 

Draco took a step back cautiously. "You shouldn't really be here alone with me, then." He said condescendingly. "Don't you know what I am?"

"I just wanted to talk." Granger said, crossing her arms over her chest. The tap of her foot on the floor radiated insistence, so Draco conceded.

"Fine." He turned around and started digging inside his bag some more. "Just keep the door open. And here-" He tossed her his wand. "Just in case anyone walks in and thinks I'm going to hex you."

She caught the wand deftly, peering at it for a moment before looking back up at him. Draco raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as well. 

"Well?" He asked.

"How long are you here for?" She asked, glancing at the bag behind him.

"Snape told me to pack for at least a fortnight." He said politely. 

"What about your parents?"

"They think I'm at his estate. I go there every August anyway to go through the Potions syllabus for the coming year."

Her eyebrows perk up in interest, "So that's how you always pass Potions so well?"

"And I'm just very skilled at it." Draco said impatiently. "Any other reason why you're here? Or shall we talk about my Transfigurations marks, too?"

Granger narrowed her eyes then took a deep breath, collecting herself. "I wanted to apologise for shouting at you earlier."

Draco couldn't help but snort. "I'd appreciate it if you never apologised to me ever again after all the things I've done to you." He said bitterly, turning and pretending to look through his bag some more just so he had something to do with his hands. "Now are we done here?"

"No, for God's sake." She said angrily at once, her tone making him look around at her quickly. "If we're going to be working together, it's not going to be like this, so apologise."

Draco straightened up, turning around again completely. "Pardon me?"

"Apologise to me about everything. Right now. So we can get it out of the way."

He crossed his arms, "And what makes you think I'll give you a meaningful apology that you're satisfied with?"

"I think we're both smart enough to know a meaningless apology when we see one."

"I'm a very good liar." Draco retorted.

"But not when you talk to Harry. And I've seen how you act and you haven't done anything to make me think otherwise. I know you'll mean it."

Draco stared at her a moment, ignoring the Harry comment and wondering why he was bluffing about apologising when he so desperately wanted to get it off his chest for a while. He blew out a sigh, his shoulder sagging and moved back a bit to sit on the edge of the desk he'd had his bag on. 

"I guess you're correct." He said, shutting his eyes for a moment before opening them. "It's true, I really am sorry, Granger. I know a few words sound fruitless, but I genuinely do feel terrible for how much trouble I might have caused you over the years."

She stayed silent for a few moments, letting the words settle, before nodding. "I accept your apology, Draco."

"And I promise I won't ever antagonise you again. Neither will I do the same for any muggleborn ever again."

"And you won't tease Ron?"

Draco looked up in disbelief, "What? Why not?"

Granger glared at him so strongly that he averted eye contact and mumbled, "Fine. Not the Weasel either."

"Good." She said. She walked up to him, holding out a hand to shake. "Call me Hermione from now on, then."

Draco stared at the hand for a few moments before taking it and shaking firmly. The girl had an unwavering grip. 

"Draco." He offered with a smile, which she returned. There was something in her grin, however, that glinted malice and cunning that gave him chills.

"Draco." She said. "Let's start fresh from here on out and work together well, shall we?"

-o-o-

Harry came in to his room later that night, popping his head through the door after a light few knocks.

"Dinner?" He asked.

Draco was laying on his back in the one bed in the room, still in his day clothes and staring blankly at the ceiling. He'd been like that for a while, letting himself think over the events of the entire day and enjoying some well-needed peace and quiet.

"I'm good." He said without looking at Harry. "Tired."

"Mm." Harry replied, waiting a few moments before adding, "Okay, then. Goodnight."

"Yeah." Draco mumbled, and Harry was gone. 

Before he knew it, Draco was opening his sleepy eyes to a dark room only dimly lit by the first blue breaks of dawn outside. He pushed his head up to look down his body and see he'd fallen asleep in his clothes from yesterday. Great. He'd wrinkled one his nice shirts.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he rubbed his eyes and glanced at the window. Outside was the street they'd arrived in prior that day. It was empty except for a naked black tree with jutting branches and a few ravens sitting neatly on them. He shuddered at the eerie sight, before heaving himself up with a groan. His bad knee singed in protest, but he ignored it.

After freshening himself up in a terrifying bathroom and changing his clothes in to something more warm (It seemed like it was impossible to get rid of the cold in Grimmauld place, similar to the Manor), he made his way quietly downstairs to the kitchen. 

Encouraged by the lack of sound inside, he tip toed inside in the hopes of makes a cup of tea before he spotted a shrouded figure in the corner of the kitchen table.

"Shit!" He yelped, before slapping his hand over his mouth at the sound. The figure turned quickly to him, and he drew his hand away with a glare. "Merlin, Harry. Say something at least."

"You looked like you were having fun tip toeing around." Harry said from the shadows, and when Draco drew closer to him he noticed the boy's rumpled state. His clothes looked haphazardly thrown on and his eyes were bloodshot and darkened underneath.

"Are you alright?" Draco gasped. "You look like death."

At Harry's wince, Draco almost slapped himself. "Sorry." He said apologetically. He decided to make himself useful and turned around to start the kettle on the stove.

"Tea?" He asked, gathering the cleanest cups he could find from the cupboards.

"Yeah." Harry grunted.

"Sugar?" 

"Three spoons."

"Merlin." Draco muttered. "Should have asked if you wanted any tea with your sugar instead."

Harry said nothing behind him except a small amused huff. The kettle begun to sing, and Draco took it off before it could get too loud and poured steaming water in to two cups. 

Walking back to Harry with the two cups in hand, the light from outside was now brighter and Draco could see how rough Harry really looked. He bit his tongue about it, sliding him a cup and then taking a seat across him.

They sipped without conversation for a while, the lull of the sleeping house providing a comfortable silence. The bitter edge to Draco's sugarless tea pulled him to full wakefulness, and he glanced at Harry to see him with a bit more colour in his face.

Draco set his tea on the table gently. "No sleep?" He asked, his tone soft to match the quiet of the house.

Harry swirled around his tea, staring in to the cup. "No." He mumbled. "Bad dreams."

"I see." Draco said, twisting the cup around in it's place with one hand. "Is it about…"

"It's about everything." Harry said. "Some more than others."

"Have they been bothering you all summer?"

"Only around one week in did they start. After that…" He trailed off giving him a knowing look, eyes puffy behind his circular-rimmed glasses.

"I'm sorry." Draco said. "I get them too, sometimes. And I've taken to randomly waking up really early and not being able to go back to sleep."

"Hence the tea." Harry gestured.

Draco smiled, "Hence the tea." He repeated. "How long've you been up?"

"Dunno. It was dark outside, though."

"Right." Draco took another sip. "Well, since we're both here, I should tell you what that meeting was about."

"Wait-" Harry drained his cup in one gulp and set it down resolutely on the table. "About yesterday…"

"Merlin, don't worry about it, Harry." Draco cut him off, holding up a hand. "It wasn't anything I didn't deserve. I think you know that, too."

"I…" Harry slumped back in seat. "Fine. It's just…We can't be fighting every time we're all in a room. Just behave around them, alright?"

Draco scoffed. "Hermione I can tolerate. It's Weasley that grates on my nerves."

"Well then just ignore him or something." Harry said. "And from now on what you tell me, we share with them."

"What?" Draco protested. "Why?"

"Because I would have told them anyway. And I want them to be involved, _and_ it's always better to have more minds put together. Besides, if I need information from you, you can't really refuse, can you?" Harry said triumphantly. 

Draco crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Harry. "I like you better when you've had more sleep."

"So do I." Harry retorted. "But are we in agreement?"

Draco blew out a huff, "Fine." He said. "Not like I have a choice."

"Brilliant. Now what did they tell you at that meeting that had you screaming at our Headmaster?"

"I did not _scream_." Draco hissed, but sat up to begin speaking anyway, ignoring Harry's hard stare. "But it was about you, actually."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "Why were they talking about me?" 

Draco shrugged. "I told them everything I knew. About this past summer and such, then they started discussing you. About the events leading to your leaving your relative's house. How you have a court hearing soon and how they might go about getting you acquitted. Useful stuff if you were even there."

"Wow." Harry sat back, running a hand through his hair. "Why did you have to have a go at them, then?"

Draco shrugged. "It made me angry, the way they were discussing you. It's like you were just a name thrown around, not an actual person next door. Don't you think you deserve to know anything that concerns you? Especially after what happened?"

"Yeah, of course." Harry said. "But aren't they the adults? They're literally the Order itself, at that. Maybe we should just trust them?"

"That's not what I mean." Draco waved a hand flippantly. "Think about it. Has Dumbledore ever asked you what _you_ want? Does he ever ask for your input? Because I'd say it was pretty important, considering what you've been through to deserve it. You of all people should be involved, don't you think?" Draco refrained from mentioning the way Dumbledore once spoke about Harry as if he really would be the one defeat Voldemort himself, although he didn't know why. It probably had something to do with Harry's sorry appearance or how weak he looked at the moment. 

"I mean…" Harry said. "Yeah, I guess. I just want to be involved and know what's happening, to be honest."

"Exactly." Draco said. "So if you tell me what you want, I'm pretty sure I can make them give it to you."

"How?" Harry asked skeptically. "I heard you giving them some rough ultimatums. Involve me or expect your silence and lack of cooperation? No offense, but what makes you think you have that sort of power?"

"Nothing makes me think that." Draco waved him off. "But what are they going to do? Kick me out? I know their Headquarters location _and_ I'm chummy with their Golden Boy. I can choose to be obstinate and annoying if I'd like."

Harry raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment on the Golden Boy remark. "Do they know about the Vow?" 

"It didn't come up, and neither directly asked, so I didn't have to tell them. Do you think I should?"

Harry considered it for a moment, before shaking his head. "Not yet. Let's just wait a bit."

Draco nodded. "Okay then. Other than that, there was nothing else. Just tell me if you want to be involved in those meetings, and I'll make it happen."

"I mean…" Harry trailed off hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck. "How long were you in there for?"

"Around two hours."

"Christ." He muttered. "Can't you just tell me everything after? Tell all of us, actually. Just the important parts."

"Wow." Draco said deadpan, "Leaving me to the dogs, hm?"

"I'd probably intrude anyways." Harry smiled. "And I'm giving you full permission to speak on my behalf should you need to."

Draco's eyebrows drew up in surprise, "Really? What makes you think I can do that responsibly?"

"Sod off." Harry waved him off. "Now you're just begging for compliments."

"No," Draco prompted with a wry smile, "I really am curious, Potter."

"Nothing…It's just, you know. You obviously seem to have my best interest in mind, for some reason, so I…I'm fine if you speak for me." 

Draco felt his face warm, and he looked away. 

"We're friends." He bit out. "Least I can do."

"Yeah. Guess so."

Clearing his throat, Draco continued, "So it's settled, then. More shoddy meetings for me, while you relax and let me spoon feed you the information after. Am I correct?"

"By the Vow." Harry grinned, and Draco rolled his eyes. "But still," He started, "Hadn't they said anything about Voldemort? Where he's been? It's as if he's not even alive, I haven't heard or seen anything."

"I feel as if even if they did know, they weren't going to tell me." Draco said truthfully, and at Harry's gesture to go on he continued, "But as far as what I know, my father told me when I first arrived that Voldemort was in a safe house recovering after your duel. That must be why we haven't heard much about any sort of terror from his side. Can't really lead when you're not fit to oversee, I guess."

"Did they say they were going to do anything about it?" Harry asked in disbelief, and Draco shook his head gravely.

"They seem to be more focused on the Ministry from the inside, for some reason. Arthur and Bill had a lot to say about the security within the lower levels of the Ministry - Seems Bill is there for much more than humble civil service."

Harry leant back with a loud exhale, running his hands through his hair again. "Okay." He said, thinking deeply. "I'm too sleep-deprived for this. We'll talk more later with Ron and Hermione. It's too-" He yawned, "-early, right now."

"Fine." Draco grumbled, crossing his arms. "How the Weasel will help, however, I don't know."

Harry said nothing, only responding with a harsh kick in the shin under the table.

"Ow!" Draco hissed, kicking him back before he unfortunately dodged Draco's leg and caused the table to wobble. Harry laughed at him, and Draco shot him a glare that would have made any lesser being cower.

"Boys?" An accusing voice sounded from the door, and Draco turned guiltily to see Molly with her hands on her hips.

"Oh." He said, surreptitiously withdrawing his legs from Harry's vicinity. "Good Morning, ma'am."

"Morning." Harry threw out casually with a lazy grin. 

"Right." She said, narrowing her eyes at them. "Lads your age up this early isn't a normal occurrence."

Draco glanced at Harry, who still looked at ease. "Just wanted to help you make breakfast, Mrs. Weasley." Harry said politely, getting up and brushing off his trousers. Draco looked back at her and saw her face break in to a warm smile.

"Oh, aren't you two darling?" She said, picking up an apron and drawing it around herself. "Then since you're both here, Harry, you can start on the eggs while Draco and I make the batter."

Draco froze. "Batter, ma'am?"

"Haven't you ever cooked before, Draco?" Harry asked curiously, deftly taking a frying pan out and twisting it in one hand. 

"Erm, no." Draco admitted.

"Well, now's the time to learn." Molly said jovially as he saw Harry shake his head to himself, "Come on, then." She beckoned him, and he shakily got up to join her side. Harry was already heating up the stove, looking completely in his element while Draco felt stiff and awkward. 

"What's the batter for?" He asked shakily, peering at the ingredients she'd piled on the counter.

"French toast." She explained. "And Harry there's making the sunny side's."

"Sunny side's." Draco repeated, "Right."

She placed a few eggs in front of him along with some flour and some weird spoon objects. "Measure these out and put them in the bowl." She said promptly, then pointed to a parchment with some measurements. "Add the dry ingredients first, then the eggs."

"Yes, ma'am." He said automatically, and got to work. Beside him, Harry was casually cracking eggs on to the frypan, initiating a loud sizzling sound. 

"It's like Potions, so you should be fine." Harry said conversationally, glancing at him as he worked. "You should roll up your sleeves, though." He gestured to Draco's long sleeves then back to his own rolled up ones. 

Draco did so, then continued to work in a comfortable silence among them as the kitchen begun to fill with the sounds of food being made. 

Just as he was finishing mixing in the eggs (after precariously breaking them and only dropping shells in twice), Sirius came bounding down the stairs in to the room.

"Morning!" He bellowed, much too loud for the earlier half of the morning. 

"Morning." Harry threw back over his shoulder as he flipped an egg. Sirius ruffled his hair as he passed by, grabbing a cup and spelling in some hot water from a flask on the dining table. 

"Bit cheery this morning, aren't we?" Molly said teasingly, and Sirius threw himself in to a chair, bobbing his teabag with a waving finger.

"Moony's arriving today." Sirius said, looking at Harry with bright eyes. 

"Really?" Harry spun away, back turned to the sizzling eggs he was in charge over "What time?"

"Just in time for lunch."

"Where's he been?" Harry exclaimed.

"Here and there. You know how it is for him." Sirius's tone became a bit grave, but he chirped up after a moment. "Haven't seen him since the night I escaped on Buckbeak!"

Draco's ears perked up. That blasted bird? Was that where it'd gone?

"Is he going to stay?" Harry was almost bouncing up and down.

"Yep. He's an Order veteran, too, technically."

"Yes!" Harry threw a fist in to the air, spinning around to see Draco and his face immediately contorting in to that of horror. "Draco, the eggs!" 

The smile Draco didn't know he had on his face faded immediately. "Shit!" He turned to see them smoking and steadily blackening. He quickly took the pan off the stove, coughing through the smoke billowing in to his face.

" _Language_." Mrs. Weasley warned behind him as he fanned the pan, and he nodded through the fits of coughs and blurry eyes. 

"Now I'll have to start again." Harry moaned petulantly, and Draco glared as best he could despite his teary eyes.

"You'll live." He croaked. Harry patted him on the back as he walked by to retrieve another pan, and Draco was luckily given respite for his trauma, steered by Molly to sit across Sirius at the dining table away from the carnage. The man was stirring a spoon magically, his tattooed and heavily ringed finger waving in lazy circles. With further study, he realised Sirius didn't have a wand on him and was using magic without it.

Seeing Draco peering at him curiously, Sirius smirked at him, saying nothing. Draco quickly looked away, focusing on watching Harry and Molly cook alongside each other. He didn't know who Moony was, but the person seemed to awaken something in Sirius to an ecstatic degree. There was a light in his eyes that wasn't there before that Draco thought wouldn't ever change from his years in Azkaban. Draco wondered if it was the man's girlfriend, but then again when would a fugitive of the law have the time to acquire one? It could have been someone from before he'd gone to Azkaban, but who would really wait that long for someone else in prison indefinitely?

Soon, more of the Weasley's begun to fill the room. Ronald and Hermione walked in together, Ronald's eyes narrowing when he saw Draco and Harry already there. Draco quirked an eyebrow at him, and the boy glared back before taking a seat at the table. Draco gave a polite nod to Hermione, and the girl smiled back with something that seemed like mutual understanding between them as she sat next to Ronald. 

Harry went back and forth between the table and the countertops, carefully balancing dishes of various breakfast foods enough to sate an army and placing them along the long table.

"Harry, come and eat first." Draco said to him at some point as he was checking on the second batch of eggs he was cooking up.

"I will, I will." Harry said, throwing a kitchen towel over his shoulder with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and glasses slipping down his nose as he bent over the stove. The rest of the Weasleys, except for Molly, were busy putting down the food with enthusiasm. Even Draco had eaten more than what he usually would have, the eggs and bacon cooked so well even his mother mightn't have shied away from the excessive oil.

"That will be enough, Harry." Molly placed a hand on his shoulder, relieving him of his duties. "Go on, before it gets cold."

"Okay." Harry said, nodding and giving her the kitchen towel. He picked a seat next to Draco, throwing himself down and immediately placing food on to his plate. "Haven't cooked like that in ages." Draco heard him mutter.

"You like to cook?" Draco asked, still trying to push down the remainder of his plate of food down his throat. If there was one thing he hadn't expected, it was to see the Boy-who-lived running around the kitchen like a frantic housewife.

Harry said nothing for a moment, causing Draco to look at him curiously. His face was impassive, but it wasn't exactly the openness it was before. "Something like that." He said after a moment, and his tone indicated the matter be left alone, so he did.

"Who's Moony?" Draco tried to steer the conversation away. Harry smiled at that, giving him a side glance.

"You'll see." He said vaguely, and Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Are you ever going to answer any of my questions properly?"

"Probably not." Harry shovelled an entire egg yolk in to his mouth, and Draco had to avert his eyes. "Unlike you." He said with a stupid grin that irritated Draco even more.

"Shut it." Draco muttered irritably, looking away. "If I'd known you'd hold that stupid Vow over my head this much, I'd have asked Granger to do it for me." 

Harry snorted, reaching over and taking a sip of some Pumpkin juice. "Good luck with that." He said. "Hermione would've found a way to do the Vow without the threat of instant death."

"Impossible." Draco retorted.

"You'd be surprised."

Draco thought for a moment. "Fine. I'd have had Sirius do it."

"Bonder?" Harry countered.

Draco swore. "Merlin, just _shut up_ , Potter." 

Harry laughed, digging in to his breakfast some more. Draco glanced at his own plate, a quarter of food still unfinished. 

"Hey." Draco said.

"Hm?"

"Do you want some of mine?" Draco pushed the plate towards Harry a bit, and the boy paused, staring at it. "I just…It's way too much."

"Erm," Harry paused, and Draco was about to retract his questions when he said, "Yeah, okay." He took the plate, replacing his empty one with Draco's. "Thanks."

"No, thank you." Draco blew a sigh of relief, his face feeling very hot for some reason. "Molly would have killed me."

"Mm." Harry said, now seemingly engrossed in eating. Draco almost shook his head. Sometimes he really didn't understand Harry. "Wonder what we're doing today."

"Harry!" Called out Hermione from where her and Ronald were sat. The two were getting up from their chairs and readying to leave the room. "After you and Draco are done, go upstairs one floor above where the bedrooms are so we can start."

"Start what?" Draco muttered distastefully.

"Got it!" Harry called back, and the two left with lazy waves.

"Harry, start _what_." Draco tugged on his sleeve.

"I don't _know_ , Draco." Harry swatted him away. 

"What's upstairs?"

"I said I don't _know_."

"Is this an Order thing? Is this what those two have been doing this whole ti-"

Harry shot him a dark look that stopped him mid-sentence, and he closed his mouth with a huff.

"Someone needs a nap." Draco muttered, just loud enough for Harry to hear. Without waiting for a reaction, he threw the napkin on his lap on to the table and took their empty plates to the sink. Making sure not to spare a backwards glance, he left the room. After waiting a moment, he popped his head back in to the kitchen with a frown.

"Hurry up, Potter." He said impatiently to the boy, whom was still sitting in disbelief, then quickly left again before Harry had the chance to throttle him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading !


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